House of Cards
by Beledi1113
Summary: What if the things that happened in Sleeper were a lie, made up to throw Castle off the track of whatever really happened those 2 months that he was missing? SPOILER WARNING - This story will go into season 8. This is AU.
1. Chapter 1 Building the Base

**House of Cards**

Summary: What if the things that happened in _Sleeper_ were a lie, made up to throw Castle off the track of whatever really happened those 2 months that he was missing?

AN: So I got bored and I was thinking what if TPTB were lying to Castle in Sleeper because the story just seemed too convenient and something made up to throw him off track. And this weird plot bunny then just popped into my head. Since people are picking on Demming, I'm going to pick on him too. I didn't mind him or Will Sorenson because they showed Beckett what she was really looking for if she'd just have let herself. I'm using Google translator, so I hope the words are accurate, so please forgive me if they are not.

 **Chapter 1 – Building the Base**

 **Circa Early 2000's**

When Harlan Ellison (not the writer) arrived at work, the first thing that he did every day, day in and day out except on those rare days he was off, was to switch on his standard company-issued computer at his desk in a rather nondescript office in the lower levels of what some people drolly called "the bowels of the Earth."

As he waited for it to boot up, he went about his morning routine – taking off his black non-descript all-weather coat and hanging it on the standard company-issued coat stand in the corner, checking his standard company-issued phone for messages, and unlocking his standard company-issued filing cabinet and pulling out the files he had been working on yesterday.

When he had been recruited fresh out of college with a PhD in Political Science (obtained in 3 years rather than the usual 4 to 8, thank you very much), he had a very different view of how his life would be – a fantasy of what it would be like to work for the 3-letter agency more commonly referred to as the Company.

It would be a life of jet setting around the world, blazing into exotic locations to fix whatever wrongs he had found using his keen analytical skills, and then zooming off unnoticed in an unmarked black van as the music swelled in the background. This seed had been planted when he watched Mission: Impossible on the small black and white TV in the family living room as a child and fueled many an afternoon of make believe play.

But TV was only fantasy, he thought as he entered his user name and password. What 15 years in the Company had taught him was that real results were accomplished by hard work, persistence, and the dedication of analyzing tens of thousands of pages in monotonous reports to find the small connections between events, and then tweaking those connections to the Company's – and the United States government's – best advantage.

But, Ellison mused as he stood and picked up his standard company-issued coffee mug, some of the fantasy would have been nice also and probably not as mundane.

# # # # # # # # # #

The standard company break room was almost deserted at this early time of the morning, with just one other person in it.

Dr. Ivan Yuri, a recent acquisition from the Russian Federation, stood at the counter, holding the coffee pot in one hand and pouring the coffee into the now overflowing mug, while reading from a stack of papers that commanded his entire attention.

The only saving grace was that Dr. Yuri had put his mug in the sink before he began so that the extra coffee was now going down the drain.

Ellison cleared his throat loudly before approaching Yuri. The doctor had a startle factor equivalent of a deer and he had learned not to walk up to Yuri without first making his presence known.

"Oh, bozhe moy!" Yuri said in a thick Russian accent as he came back to the present and looked at what he had done.

"Good morning, Dr. Yuri," said Ellison as he took the pot of almost empty coffee from the man. "So what is so interesting this morning?"

"This!" Yuri said as he picked up the papers he was been reading and shook them at Ellison. "Udivitel'no!"

"And this is?" encouraged Ellison as he tried to read the top page. _Tropical Heat_?

"Richard's book," Yuri exclaimed again. "He sent me a draft to review."

"Ah," nodded Ellison – the writer who had weaseled his way into the division he worked at Company and whom he had managed to foist off on Sophia Turner. What was the good of having subordinates if you didn't delegate? "I didn't realize that he wrote non-fiction."

"Nyet, nyet," said Yuri, shaking his head. "It's a spy novel – Derrick Storm."

Ellison frowned, his eyes narrowing a little. He had little use for spy novels. Most of them were woefully inaccurate, that fantasy view that just wouldn't be snuffed out. "I didn't know that the two of you had met."

Yuri nodded. "Da. But not to worry. Sophia was with him the entire time and I didn't tell him anything classified," he said as he continued to wave the papers back and forth.

"So?" Ellison asked, prompting the doctor to continue.

"We talked science," replied Yuri. "Weather actually – how one could go about creating a machine to control weather, like on the soap opera General Hospital." He paused and nodded to himself. "It was a very good discussion."

"I didn't realize Mr. Castle was a scientist either," Ellison replied.

"Nyet. But he does have a good imagination – very creative – how do you say… 'out of the box'?" Yuri plopped the papers down on the counter and flipped to one that he had dog-eared. "See – here – what he's done. Out of the box, but with a few changes, it could be possible."

Ellison quirked an eyebrow at him. "So you're telling me that a person who writes pulp fiction knows how to create a machine to control the weather while our scientists have been working on this for years without much success?"

"Nyet, but what he has written has possibilities. It would take years to develop and test, but it could work," Yuri said excitedly.

Ellison nodded thoughtfully. "Do you mind if I read that?" he asked, pointing to the manuscript.

"Nyet, not at all," Yuri smiled as he handed him the stack of papers. "Perhaps we should have Richard come visit again so we can … how do you say it – ah – 'pick his brains'."

"Good idea," said Ellison, smiling slightly to placate the excited man. "Let me see what I can do."

# # # # # # # # # #

Back in his office, Ellison laid the papers on his desk and pulled up the file they had on Richard Castle.

Liberal arts college graduate, with honors no less; best-selling author; age 30; native New Yorker; born to an unwed mother, Martha Rodgers, an actress; father to Alexis…no, nothing really out of the ordinary here. He frowned – Castle had had enough pull somewhere for him to be able to gain access to the Company and he knew that files sometimes didn't contain all of the information.

Ellison drummed his fingers against the desk as he thought.

What were the chances of a hack writer – an annoying one at that – coming up with an idea that would make a viable machine that controlled weather?

But he had learned through the years that anything was possible and even the unlikely was not to be readily dismissed.

And if Dr. Kuri found this book interesting, imagine what the rest of the world would think, especially their enemies? No, they certainly weren't going to divulge trade secrets even in works of fiction.

But how to handle this? What tweak would make this problem disappear?

He looked at the picture of Castle again. They could take the easy way out and stage a deadly accident, but no, the publisher would probably be more likely to publish the book posthumously, touting it as the author's last book.

They could simply tell him that it was in his country's best interest to not publish the book, but no, that might make him ask unwanted questions.

Ellison scrolled through the file on Castle and then nodded to himself. There, he thought as he paused at one particular spot, that could work.

Even though they were non-fiction, Castle prided himself on the authenticity of his books. So what if Dr. Yuri didn't approve of the book, more specifically the science used in it? Would that be enough to stop the publication of it?

Ellison opened a Word document and began typing.

# # # # # # # # # #

"Here, Daddy, I'll do it," said Alexis, holding out her palm for the key to the mailbox, a quick stop as they returned from their daily jaunt to the park.

Castle handed the key over and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms and smiling slightly as he watched his daughter open the mailbox and take out the mail.

She quickly sorted through it. "This is for you and this one and this too," she said, handing him several envelopes and a large package.

Alexis suddenly squealed in delight. "It's a post card from Grams! She's in Greece!" She looked up at him with sparkling eyes. "Can we call her, Daddy? To let her know we got it?"

Castle looked at his watch. 4 pm here, 11 pm over there. Knowing his mother, she would still be up. "Sure," he smiled. "Race you to the elevator," he said as he took off running.

"Dad," Alexis replied, rolling her eyes. "You know we're not supposed to run inside."

# # # # # # # # # #

Martha answered after a couple of rings and they made small talk for a minute before Castle handed Alexis the phone.

As his daughter giggled on the phone with her grandmother, he opened the large envelope and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He had immediately recognized the return address and was anxious to hear what Dr. Yuri had thought of his book.

Castle quickly skimmed the paper, his frown deepening, and then pulled out the manuscript and flipped to several dog-eared pages. True to what the doctor had written in the letter, the pages where he described the weather machine were covered by red marks, indicating where he had gone wrong, reminding him of some of his earlier school papers.

"Grams sends her love," said Alexis as she hung up the phone and then frowned at him. "You okay, Daddy?" she asked.

Castle closed the manuscript and put on a smile. "Just fine, Pumpkin," he said, ruffling her hair. "Go wash up for dinner and then you can tell me everything Grams says she's doing."

"Okay," said Alexis. She pulled him down for a hug and kiss. "Thank you, Daddy. I had a good time at the park today."

Castle relaxed as he returned the hug. "I did too."

He watched her scamper up the stairs and then looked back at the manuscript, glad he hadn't sent it to Black Pawn yet. Maybe _Tropical Storm_ hadn't been such a good idea after all if his science had been that bad.

# # # # # # # # # #


	2. Chapter 2 Adding a Layer

House of Cards

Summary: What if the events that Castle remembered in _Sleeper_ were a lie? What really happened to him during the 2 months he was missing?

AN: My apologies for starting the story and not posting sooner. We had to have some unexpected home remodeling done because of a broken drain pipe. I can say that I've found something I hate even worse than holding a garage sale – home remodeling. And I promise we'll get to Castle and Beckett soon in this story.

# # # # # # # # # #

 **Chapter 2 – Adding a Layer**

 **April 2015**

When Harlan Ellison, now senior supervisor of the India-Asia division, arrived at work in what was considered the "ivory tower," his assistant already had a steaming cup of coffee and that day's Wall Street Journal waiting for him on his desk.

He plugged his laptop into the docking station and responded to some text messages in the few moments it took for the computer to connect to the internal network.

His next order of business was to scan the briefings that his staff had sent him early that morning.

Ah, the perks of being the boss, he thought as he took a sip of coffee as he read – they were the ones now going to bed late and getting up early to fuel the machine. He did it by choice now.

"Good morning, Mr. Ellison," said Bethany Jordan as she walked into his office. "They're all on and ready."

"Thank you, Bethany," he replied as he clicked on icon on the screen and the video conference started. "Good morning, team. It's a great day to save the world."

A chorus of "yes, sirs" sounded from the speakers.

"So what have we got today? Dastgeer, you first," Ellison said.

"Minor upraising, but nothing the general can't handle," replied Dastgeer. "We'll remain in control of the region without having to invest additional resources, although he does expect a case of Krug 1996 Clos D'Ambonnay."

"If he delivers, it will be money well spent," Ellison said with a slight laugh. "Huang, you're on deck."

"Our agents are in place at the new nuclear waste facilities so we'll know exactly what's going on there," Huang said. "These shouldn't be a game changer."

"Excellent," Ellison responded. "Amrit, how's everything in your neck of the woods?"

"Just waiting to see what happens to the rupee this week, sir. If it's devalued, our network may want payment in US currency," the man said in a slight Indian accent.

Ellison nodded. "We can manage that. Keep me posted."

"Oh, and this just popped from a flag set on the Maldives," said Amrit. "A Richard Castle has booked the private residence at the Velaa for 21 days in May. Is this something I should look into, sir?"

Ellison paused for a moment. "No, Amrit. I'll handle that personally. Thank you." He smiled at his subordinates. "Keep up the good work, people. Remember, I'm available 24/7/365 if you need me."

He ended the video conference and tapped his finger against his lip a few times. He really should have taken care of that problem years ago, but that was now water under the bridge.

When Dr. Yuri retired, he was given a new identity, a small cottage, and a fishing boat in the Maldives. While the chances of Yuri and Castle meeting up while he was there were slim, it wouldn't do for that to happen and Castle to discover the truth.

Of course, the CIA wasn't in the business of spying on American citizens…unless it was a matter of national security and then they did it with extreme secrecy. And this blip just got pushed up to DEFCON 3, not quite a full blown crisis, but something that might develop into one if it wasn't handled properly. While Castle's theories hadn't led to a weather machine, they had created some other viable alternatives and digging up the past now could prove to be problematic.

Ellison opened his lower desk drawer and pulled out the phone that had been taped to the underside of the drawer above it.

He flipped it on and said simply, "Tango Alpha Heavy – we have a situation." He then took the battery and SIM card out of the phone and crushed the SIM card with his foot and slipped the items into his jacket pocket for disposal off site.

Ellison stood and walked out of his office, pausing at his assistant's desk.

"Bethany, I'll be out for a while."

"Yes, sir," she said. "Do I need to reschedule your meeting with Director Connelly?"

Ellison shook his head. "No, I should be back in plenty of time."

"Yes, sir," his assistant replied.

Ellison turned and quickly walked through the complex to his car.

He would get this little glitch out of the way and then turn his full attention to what he thought was a more pressing issue.

This administration was gentler, more transparent, more into the "we are one world" philosophy. And because of that, certain individuals felt that having solo black op CIA agents was an outdated notion and the lone wolf concept didn't sit well with them.

Ellison himself was of a different opinion – keep your friends close but your enemies closer was more in line with his philosophy – but he could see the appeal of corralling those agents into one group, ultimately led by him. Those agents needed oversight and that was something he was extremely good at, as his rise through the ranks had shown. Imagine what he could do with agents on steroids, so to speak. He would just have to convince the director and the agents themselves that this was the best direction.

# # # # # # # # # #

After parking his car several blocks away, Ellison walked into a non-descript tailor shop and nodded at the clerk behind the counter. "I'm here for a fitting – the black tuxedo A147."

The clerk nodded. "If you'll just step into changing room B, I'll bring your garment to you."

Ellison nodded and stepped into the small booth, closing the privacy door behind him. He then leaned forward and peered into the mirror on the opposite wall.

After a few seconds, the mirror slid up, revealing a concrete wall. Ellison put his hand in the middle and waited again as his palm print was read.

The wall opened quietly to reveal a short hallway leading to an elevator.

A few moments after entering the elevator, Ellison was in control central of an organization that didn't exist but was well funded by budget overruns.

"Hello, Randy," Ellison said as he walked up to the man waiting for him.

"Good to see you again, Harlan," replied Randy as they shook hands. "So how can we help you?"

"We have a slight situation – internal – that needs to be handled discreetly," Ellison replied.

Randy nodded as they walked. "We're in here," he said, stopping at a door. "I'm sure you know George and Maxine."

Ellison nodded at the other two people in the room as they sat down.

"I found out today that Richard Castle has booked a 3-week stay in the Maldives in May," Ellison started.

"Richard Castle? The mystery writer?" questioned Maxine. "I thought that would be more page 6 news, rather than something we need to handle."

"I assure you that this is a matter of some significance," said Ellison. "Castle shadowed the CIA in the early 2000's and used some of what he learned in a Derrick Storm book named _Tropical Storm_ , including what is considered proprietary intellectual property."

Randy frowned. "Why wasn't he immediately arrested and charged with treason?"

"That's the complicated part," responded Ellison. "I'm sure you're familiar with Dr. Yuri's work with weather. Well, the problem is that Yuri didn't develop the ideas that his work was based on. Castle did."

"I still don't see how that's relevant," said George. "Surely the intellectual property agreement covered that. We can have him picked up today."

Ellison took a deep breath. "Castle was only an observer, not a scientist, so he wasn't required to sign that agreement. And he wrote the book after he had left the company."

"Dr. Yuri didn't help him develop this idea?" asked Maxine.

"No," said Ellison, shaking his head. "Castle came up with it by himself and sent a copy of the book to Dr. Yuri to review. Apparently, it was something our scientists hadn't even thought of – a fluke, so to speak. We did persuade him not to publish the book."

"So we basically stole Castle's ideas," said Randy.

Ellison shrugged. "We've done it before when it's been in the best interest of the country. The problem is that when Dr. Yuri retired, he was relocated to the Maldives with a new identity."

"And if Castle and Dr. Yuri meet, they could discuss the book and the subsequent application of Castle's ideas, which could lead to that information going public," said Maxine.

Ellison nodded. "Yes. And there are some foreign entities still interested in Dr. Yuri. His whereabouts could become known if Castle were to inadvertently reveal his location."

Randy steepled his fingers. "So what do you want us to do? We could arrange for a fatal accident."

Ellison shook his head as he put up his hand. "No, no, nothing that drastic. We don't want to risk his publisher finding a draft copy of _Tropical Heat_ and publishing it posthumously. We just want to prevent him from going to the Maldives."

"What about moving Dr. Yuri at least temporarily?" asked Maxine.

Ellison shook his head. "I've got a call in to Dr. Yuri's handlers, but I don't know how fast they can move on this." He looked at the people in the room. "So can you help me?"

Randy looked at man and woman and then nodded. "Yes, we can."

"Thanks," said Ellison as he stood up. "And I owe you."

"That's what we're here for," said Randy as he walked him to the elevator.

# # # # # # # # # #

Randy walked back into the room after seeing Ellison out. "Suggestions?"

Maxine peered at her tablet. "Richard Castle and a Detective Katherine Beckett are getting married the second Saturday in May, so we can assume the trip is for the honeymoon. They haven't applied for a marriage license yet."

Randy nodded. "Then the easiest way to handle this would be to make them postpone the wedding."

"Hmmm," said Maxine with a slightly surprised expression as she looked at her tablet. "We may not need to do anything. It looks like Detective Beckett is already married to a Rogan O'Leary, but for some reason, her maiden name is listed as Houghton on the marriage license, not Beckett. There's no record of divorce for either a Katherine Beckett or a Katherine Houghton."

"So she's still married to O'Leary?" Randy quirked an eyebrow. "That has definite possibilities. Let's correct the database and see what happens."

Maxine typed on her tablet and then touched the screen. "Done."

"And George, take care of the venue," Randy said. "No sense in leaving anything to chance."

# # # # # # # # # #


	3. Chapter 3 Adding Another Layer

House of Cards

Summary: What if the events that Castle remembered in _Sleeper_ were a lie? What really happened to him during the 2 months he was missing?

AN: Thanks for all the favorites, follows, and reviews. Those really make my day. And we're still remodeling. Hopefully they will be finished soon.

# # # # # # # # # #

 **Chapter 3 – Adding Another Layer**

# # # # # # # # # #

 **May 2015**

Randy was not a happy camper when he stormed into the control center after Maxine had called him to say that the wedding was still on and that Castle had just left the judge's office with the marriage license.

"This was supposed to be easy. Ellison hasn't been able to move Yuri yet, so we need a plan now," he said. "Who are these people – the Energizer Bunny?"

George shrugged. "Castle's rich. He could afford to move the wedding to his house in the Hamptons after the accident at the venue."

"And they found Rogan O'Leary," said Maxine. "He wasn't as unreachable as we thought." She paused. "We could just call Castle and explain the situation to him."

"And risk having him make this whole fiasco public?" retorted Randy. "Let's just make this go away."

"Well, they can't have a wedding if the groom doesn't show up," Maxine said. "And no wedding, no honeymoon."

"So we kidnap Castle before the wedding," George commented. "How about the stalker scenario? Castle has some crazy fans."

"Or a psychotic ex-boyfriend from Beckett's past," said Randy.

"Why not make it simple?" said Maxine. "Castle's been married twice before and he gets cold feet. He just disappears for a while."

Randy nodded. "Those are all viable options. Let's intercept Castle. We'll work out the details later."

"I'm on it," said George.

# # # # # # # # # #

Castle had just hung up from talking to Beckett and glanced in the rearview mirror as he ran a hand through his hair again, making sure it looked just right for their perfect day.

That's when he saw the black Escalade gaining speed on him. At first, he didn't pay it much attention, assuming that they would pass him. But then it pulled closer, tailgating him for a few seconds, so he sped up only to find that it gaining upon him again.

The situation took a turn for the worse when the Escalade flanked him for a second and then paused, dropping behind him again.

Starting to panic, Castle reached for his phone to call Beckett to tell her what was happening when the Escalade hit his back bumper, causing the back of his Mercedes to fishtail slightly as he entered a curve in the road.

He overcorrected and found his car skidding down the embankment, finally coming to a sudden stop as it crashed into the other side of the gully. He was momentarily stunned as the air bag deployed and then deflated, coughing as powder floated around his face.

Castle spotted his phone on the floor and started to grab for it when the driver's door was yanked opened and a stun gun pushed into his ribs.

The charge disabled him enough for two men wearing black hoods to yank him out of the car, stuff a bag over his head, and duct tape his wrists behind his back. A third man popped open the trunk and took out the bags.

"Burn it," said one of the men holding Castle. They drug him up the hillside and dumped him unceremoniously into the back of the Escalade, along with the bags and his cell phone.

The tires squealed as they hooked a 180 and started back off the island.

A few moments later, Castle heard two loud bangs and felt the Escalade itself fishtail and then thump along on rims as the driver pulled it over to the side of the road and stopped the SUV.

"Alpha Ceti, this is Ahab. We've taken fire. Need immediate ba—" Two more shots rang out and the man who was talking slumped over the wheel, the man in the seat beside him slumping against the door. Another shot rang out and Castle felt the man who was next to him slump on top of him.

The doors to the Escalade were yanked open and Castle felt himself being drug out. He started to resist when he heard a stern voice.

"Richard, stop! We're the good guys – we're here to rescue you."

After the duct tape binding his wrists was cut, Castle pulled the bag off of his head.

"Dad, what the h—?" he started and then stopped suddenly when he saw his father.

The commanding voice was the same but the feeble, yellowed man sitting in a wheelchair in front of him only vaguely resembled his father. A woman wearing a typical tourist outfit stood behind the chair.

"Something I ate disagreed with me," Hunt quipped with a slightly sarcastic smile. "Now move, Richard. We don't have much time – they'll be here shortly."

"They who?" Castle asked and then his eyes went wide. "Kate – Alexis – Mom – I've got to get to them."

Hunt shook his head. "No – they're fine. You were the target."

"How do you know that?" Castle asked. "I've got to call them to make sure."

"No, you don't," said Hunt firmly. "I have someone watching them." He looked at the blonde-haired man with a pony tail. "Find some place to dump that."

"Uh, won't the clean-up team take care of it?" Castle asked.

"Let's just say I'm out in the cold now and without my usual resources," said Hunt. "Although I do have friends."

Castle frowned. "So this is about you?"

Hunt shrugged. "We don't know yet. Who knows – you may have pissed someone off."

Castle rolled his eyes slightly as he started to turn back to the Escalade.

"And leave your phone in the car," said Hunt. "That's how they tracked you."

"Can I take the bag?" Castle asked. "It's got money in it."

Hunt let out an exasperated sigh as the woman wheeled his chair to the waiting RV.

Castle pulled the bag out of the Escalade and then walked to the RV. He turned to watch as the blonde-haired man and the road-side fruit vendor hooked the Escalade up to a flatbed wrecker and secured the vehicle.

"Are you ready now?" Hunt asked rhetorically.

Castle nodded. "Yeah, but I might know someone who can help with the car…if I can borrow your phone since I can't use mine. And – uh – he can probably help dispose of the bodies too."

He made a quick call to Vinnie and then gave the blonde-haired man the address to deliver the Escalade to.

Castle looked at Hunt as he sat down on one of the bench seats as the RV slowly pulled on to the road. "We need to make a stop first – I need to drop the money for Vinnie."

# # # # # # # # # #


	4. Chapter 4 STP Big Time

House of Cards

Summary: What if the events that Castle remembered in _Sleeper_ were a lie? What really happened to him during the 2 months he was missing? SPOILER WARNING – This story will go into season 8. None of the spoilers have said what path Beckett takes, but I'm going to choose one. And of course, this is totally AU.

AN: Thanks for all the favorites, follows, and reviews. Those really make my day. I'm not sure if I'll add Haley to this; it depends on the way the story wants to go. And as usual, my plot bunny is a little off the wall, but here goes… Rated T for swearing.

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 **Chapter 4 – STP Big Time**

The safe house was a small private hospital on the outskirts of Montreal. It was almost midnight when the RV pulled up to the delivery entrance in back and the weary travelers unloaded.

During the 5 hour trip, Castle and his father had talked the few times that Hunt had been awake, but all that did was to leave Castle with a lot of unanswered question.

The silence in between left him with the sinking feeling that his father's death might be imminent and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. After their last meeting, he didn't consider Hunt family any more, but his father had just saved his life.

And the silence also left him time to brood about what had happened and have his writer's imagination spin hundreds of possibly unrealistic scenarios in response.

Did some maniac want him to suffer endless agony, and if that maniac was after him, would they go after his family when they realized they didn't have him? Was Bracken behind this, showing them that he could still hurt them from behind bars? Was this 3XK, punishing them for ruining his plan? Or someone else they had put away?

He shook his head, quickly quelling his writer's imagination, and put into practice what he had learned from Beckett over the years. He needed solid evidence to go on now, not wild speculations as to what was happening and why. He couldn't go down the rabbit hole if he wanted to make his way back to his family.

Kate – he squeezed his eyes closed and thought about her again for the millionth time since this crazy trip in Wonderland had started. What must she be going through? And Martha? And Alexis? He would give anything to be able to reach out to them now, to let them know he was safe.

"Mr. Castle," said an older woman in a slight accent, stopping in front of one of the doors. "You're in here for now. You should have everything you need, but it's important that you stay in this area at all times."

Castle nodded as he remembered the rules that the nurse had told him after they crossed the border.

"Don't go outside, don't go near a window, don't use the phone, don't send a text or an email – in other words, be dead – like I died in the car crash and I'm a ghost now," Castle said sarcastically.

The only display of emotion that the woman allowed was a lift of an eyebrow and a slight tilt of her head, as if she expected to be automatically obeyed by a recalcitrant child.

Castle deflated slightly. "All right," he said and then looked at her with a worried expression. "But what happens now? How long do I have to stay here? I need to contact my family. They need to know—"

"Nothing right now," the woman cut him off. "It's much safer for them until we find out what happened."

"And how long is _that_ going to take?" Castle asked worriedly.

The woman shrugged. "We have feelers out. Hopefully not too long – a week or two at the most," she said with a slight smile. She turned to go and then paused and looked back at him. "Just think what a good book this will make," she quipped.

Castle made a slight face. If only this was a book and he could rewrite the chapter…

"Excuse me, Miss?" he asked almost hesitantly. "Hunt – what happened to him?"

How much could he say about his father? Did they even know Hunt was his father?

The woman pursed her lips and took a breath. "He was poisoned," she said simply. "If he had ingested the entire amount, he would have died within a matter of hours. As it was, he only ingested enough to send him into liver failure."

Castle's eyes opened wide in alarm. "Can you do something? Is he—?"

The woman put up a hand to stop him. "That's why we're here. As soon as the donor gets here, he'll have a liver transplant. The doctors are confident that he'll make a full recovery. Not that he'll ever go out in the field again."

Castle nodded, eyes misting over. "Let me know if there is anything I can do."

The woman smiled slightly. "I will. Just press the call button if you need anything."

Castle walked into the room and plopped down on the edge of the bed, slumping over and holding his head in his hands wearily. Could this day get any worse?

# # # # # # # # # #

The sound of running footsteps in the corridor roused Castle from his too early in the morning non-meditation and he walked to the door and opened it slightly to see what was going on.

Several nurses and doctors were clustered around his father's room, as well as the woman whose name he had never been told.

Had the donor gotten here? Were they taking his father into surgery now? Why hadn't he been told?

Castle stepped into the hallway and looked at the grim-faced crowd. No, the news obviously wasn't good. He paused. Had his father died before the donor got here?

He quickly walked up to the woman. "What's going on? Is my…Is Hunt dead?"

The woman looked at him and shook her head. "No, but he might as well be. The donor has been delayed by weather. He's not going to make it here until tomorrow morning at the earliest. The doctors say it will be too late by then. Hunt won't survive that long."

And Castle did what he did best – he opened his mouth before thinking and blurted out, "What about me? I can be the donor."

"Excuse me?" the woman asked as if she hadn't heard him correctly.

"I'm healthy and we might even have the same blood type," Castle said, building his case.

"You do realize this is a serious operation," said the woman. "The doctor would remove part of your liver and transplant it into Hunt."

Castle shrugged. "Hey, it's not like I'm giving him a kidney and then I'd only have one," he quipped. "I've read that livers grow back after a living donor transplant."

The woman studied him for a moment. "Are you absolutely sure?" she asked somewhat hopefully.

Castle took a deep breath. Part of him felt like he owed Hunt for saving Alexis, but another part said if Hunt wasn't her grandfather, she wouldn't have been in danger in the first place.

He shook his head to clear it and then nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I'm sure. It's not like I'm going anyplace until you find out what happened anyway."

"Okay," the woman said, nodding. "Then let me introduce you to Dr. Bajwa."

# # # # # # # # # #

Hunt slowly blinked his eyes to clear his vision as he looked around the room he was in – obviously a hospital room, but the last thing he remembered was being in the RV with Richard. Aside from the ache in his side, he felt better than he had in several days so everything must have gone as planned.

"Good – you're awake finally," said a voice that he knew well. The woman stepped into his line of vision and smiled slightly. "Nice to have you back. Do you want me to raise your head?"

Hunt nodded, closing his eyes and resting his head as the position of the bed was changed. He then opened his eyes and looked at Dr. Bajwa standing at the end of the bed.

The doctor smiled an appropriate bedside smile. "The transplant went well. You may notice some pain at the incision site but it's nothing we can't fix. And we've already started you on anti-rejection medications. We'll be monitoring you for any adverse reactions. And I have to warn you against strenuous activities for the next several months."

Hunt nodded and then coughed slightly. He took a sip of water from the straw that the woman offered him and then closed his eyes for a moment. "Bradley made it in time," he croaked hoarsely.

The woman paused, furrowing her brow before she spoke. "No, he was detained by weather. So we went with option B."

Hunt frowned – option B? They hadn't discussed an option B. He opened his eyes and scanned the room, finding Castle seated on the couch and dressed in a hospital robe with an IV in his arm.

Castle waved slightly with his other hand, offering him a tentative smile.

It took Hunt a moment to process what it meant and when he did, his heart rate monitor sped up.

"Sir, you have to calm down," said Dr. Bajwa, frowning.

"Richard, what in the hell did you do?" Hunt growled. He then looked at the woman. "And why in the hell did you let him?"

Castle was momentarily stunned by his father's response. "Uh, I just saved your life," he responded, hurt and angry. "A 'thank you' might be in order."

"It's not like we had a choice," the woman said, taking Hunt's hand. "Bradley wouldn't be here in time and Mr. Castle was a match."

Hunt closed his eyes and shook his head slightly.

"I don't see what the big deal is," interjected Castle. "You needed a liver and apparently I've got plenty to spare."

Hunt opened his eyes and glared at the woman. "You didn't tell him, did you?"

The woman glanced away and shook her head. "We couldn't take the chance that he'd say no. You're too important to lose at this point."

Castle frowned. "Why would I say no?"

"Questions would be asked if someone found out that you donated part of your liver and the answers could get you killed," said the woman. "So you must stay here for several months until you heal. No one can ever know you did this."

Castle shook his head as he stood, looking as if he was going to make a break for it and grabbing the IV pole. "Several months – no – that's not possible – my family – and why would someone want to kill me for donating part of my liver?" he asked, his voice rising.

"Because you donated it to me," said Hunt.

"I don't understand," said Castle, shaking his head as he looked back and forth between Hunt and the woman.

"Because I was on a covert assignment to find out who is killing older black op agents when I was poisoned," said Hunt.

"So?" replied Castle. "Isn't that something unfriendly governments do from time to time? Get rid of the competition, so to speak?"

"Except that when I was poisoned, I was in a secret CIA training facility here in the United States," replied Hunt.

"We think we know who the person is, but no one can ever know that Hunt survived the attack," continued the woman. "So no one can ever know that you donated part of your liver to him."

Slack-jawed, Castle could only stare at the two people.

"Let's just say that's how older agents are retired," Hunt said with a chuckle. "With extreme prejudice. That is, if they don't do a 'Derrick Storm' and disappear."

"Shit," said Castle as he sat down heavily on the couch and let out a breath. He had really screwed the pooch big time.

# # # # # # # # # #


	5. Chapter 5 Yes and No

House of Cards

Summary: What if the events that Castle remembered in _Sleeper_ were a lie? What really happened to him during the 2 months he was missing? And what are the consequences now? Will go into season 8 but definitely AU.

AN: Thanks for all the favorites, follows, and reviews. Those really make my day. Sorry for the delay in updating; I got distracted by all the rumors floating around out there for Castle season 8…and James Brolin is on a CBS comedy in the fall…and the ongoing remodeling project that was only supposed to take 10 days and now is going on 4 weeks.

# # # # # # # # # #

 **Chapter 5 Yes and No**

Hunt continued to steadily improve during the next week while Castle was slowly coming to terms with the cost of his decision.

Would he have done it if they had told him the consequences beforehand? He liked to think that he would have, but he knew what he was unintentionally putting his family through when he read the newspaper articles, heard the rumors about his disappearance, and saw the paparazzi pictures. The toll their grief was taking on them was palpable, as was Castle's own guilt at having caused it.

If only he could just reach out to let them know he was safe, at least temporarily, that is.

He would then put a screeching halt to that train of thought and remind himself that he didn't start this chain of events; someone else did. Castle wiped angry tears out of his eyes with the heels of his hands as he imagined what he would do when he found that person.

The break came one morning the next week, gleaned from some chatter that a friendly analyst had overheard and passed on to the woman. It was a simple request to move a Dr. Yuri from the Maldives to another location after Operation Ahab had failed and the agents assigned and target had disappeared.

"Richard, dear," she said, sipping a cup of tea as the trio sat in a small dining room reserved for them. "Do you know a Dr. Yuri?"

Castle perked up slightly from his gloom, but that memory also left a bitter taste in his mouth. "I met him when I shadowed the CIA. We had some interesting discussions and I sent him a book to review, but it didn't pan out."

"Why?" asked Hunt, his curiosity piqued.

Castle paused for a moment as if he had been caught turning in someone else's paper and then said simply, "He didn't like the science."

Hunt rolled his eyes and looked at the woman. "Is there some connection?"

"Just that Dr. Yuri is in the Maldives," the woman said matter-of-factly.

Castle frowned as he ruminated the meaning behind her statement.

"Someone didn't want me going to the Maldives in case I ran into him?" he asked. "Wouldn't it have been easier just to tell me not to go?"

The woman hummed. "There must be something more to this." She thumbed her tablet and did a quick search, reciting what she found.

"Dr. Yuri defected from Russia in the early 2000's. He spent the next 10 years working on the applications of HAARP."

"The High Frequency Active Auroral Research Program?" asked Hunt. He looked at his son. "That should appeal to your conspiracy theory fantasies."

"And then he died a couple of years ago," continued the woman, ignoring the interruptions.

"And is buried in the Maldives?" asked Castle, pulling a face. "Why would someone be worried that I'd meet a dead man?"

"Because he's not dead obviously," replied the woman, nonchalantly, and then continued to read from her tablet. "His claim to fame was the IMAS – the ionosphere modulation signal device based on the theory that when you modulate the frequency of the signal directed into the ionosphere, you can affect the weather. However, the device didn't work as expected so it was shelved several years after development at the cost of several million dollars."

"No, no," said Castle, shaking his head. "That's not right."

"His theory?" asked Hunt.

"No," said Castle, looking at his father and the woman. "That's my theory, my device. He took it from the book I sent him."

"Ah," said the woman, nonplussed. "That explains it then – why someone didn't want you to meet."

"But he said that theory was useless," Castle muttered to himself, confused, as he stood and started to pace, running a hand through his hair. "He said the science was juvenile – something that an elementary student who knew nothing about science would come up with."

Hunt and the woman sat back and watched Castle as he went through the thought process of disbelief, belief, and then anger.

"He stole my idea!" he blurted finally out, face turning slightly red. "The science _**was**_ good! I didn't publish that book because he said the science was bad! And I believed him!"

Hunt and the woman looked at each other. "Thus giving our frenemies direct access to top secret information, which is treason."

Castle stopped and looked at them, shaking his head vehemently. "No, no – I came up with that idea on my own – based on an old General Hospital episode and some research I did. The only weather control that Dr. Yuri and I discussed was how to use cloud seeding to create rain and snow. I don't understand how he could do this?" he asked rhetorically as he shook his head and started to pace again.

"Idea poaching," said the woman.

Hunt nodded. "Slimy sleight of hand."

"Misaligned malfeasance," responded the woman.

"Collateral containment," replied Hunt.

Castle let out a snort. "This isn't funny," he said exasperatedly. "Dr. Yuri stole my idea and then kidnapped me on my wedding day so I wouldn't go to the Maldives and find out what he had done." He stopped suddenly, eyes wide. "I've got to tell someone what he did."

Hunt frowned at his son. "And who exactly are you going to tell?"

"Oh, I don't know – the CIA?" Castle responded.

"The same CIA that just tried to kill your father?" asked the woman. "That may not work out too well."

"Okay, then Homeland Security?" Castle replied. "Surely they would be interested."

"Is the world going to end because of this?" asked the woman.

Castle stared at her. "No, not the world – just mine," he answered after a minute, shaking his head slightly.

He flopped back down in his chair. "So you're telling me that the US government is not interested in my problem?"

"Oh, no, not at all," said the woman. "What we're saying is that the certain entities within the US government may have caused your problem. The operation was professional, not something that Yuri could pull off by himself."

"Did Yuri actually say these things about your book to you?" asked Hunt.

Castle frowned again. "No. He wrote me a letter and sent the book back after he 'graded' it," he said, making air quotes.

Hunt shrugged as if that cleared things up. "Then it could have been anyone. In fact, Yuri may not have even known what had happened, which is why someone didn't want you to meet."

Castle slumped in his seat. "So now what?" he asked despondently. "Can I go back home after they move Yuri?"

The woman studied him for a moment and then responded. "Yes and no."

"Huh?" replied Castle.

"Once Yuri is moved, that threat is over," said the woman, "but if whoever orchestrated this realizes that you know what happened, they could come after you again to make sure you don't tell anyone."

"But why?" asked Castle. "What does it matter? My theory didn't work and the project was shelved. You can tell me where Yuri is and I'll make sure to never meet him, so problem solved."

"I'm afraid it's not that simple," explained Hunt. "It mattered enough that someone tried to kidnap you to stop any chance of a meeting."

Castle shook his head. "But that doesn't make sense."

"We never said that the government was intelligent," replied the woman. "And there's the bigger issue of what you really did. You can't tell anyone about this."

"I won't," Castle countered hopefully.

"That includes Beckett, Martha, and Alexis," Hunt responded.

"But…" Castle sputtered.

"No one," Hunt said sternly.

"Okay," said Castle, pouting slightly.

"And if whoever did this," the woman said, pointing at Hunt, "has the slightest idea about what really happened, they'll take you out and anyone they think you might have told. And these people make Senator Bracken look like a school yard bully," she stressed.

"Okay," said Castle, nodding slightly. "So we come up with a plausible cover story that explains why I was missing."

"And that would be?" asked the woman curiously, tilting her head slightly.

"A crazy fan ran you off the road and carted you away but you finally managed to free yourself after being held captive several months?" asked Hunt.

"Really? That sounds like second-rate fan fiction…or the truth," Castle said, looking around the small area he was confined to. He thought for several long moments. "How about the CIA had a mission that only I could complete and it had to be that day, otherwise the results would have been catastrophic."

"And that's even better?" asked Hunt. "Need I remind you who these people are? They would know that it's not real."

Castle shook his head. "Are you sure? Maybe we don't need to convince them – I just need to make it believable."

"And what if you can't?" the woman countered.

"I have to for my families' sake," said Castle.

"And I thought Martha was the actor," said Hunt with a smile. "So where do we start?"

# # # # # # # # # #


	6. Chapter 6 Building a Bridge

House of Cards

Summary: What if the events that Castle remembered in _Sleeper_ were a lie? What really happened to him during the 2 months he was missing? And what are the consequences now? SPOILER WARNING – This story will go into season 8. And yeah, I chose wisely (unlike the plumbing company I chose to do the bathroom remodel, but it's finally finished!).

AN: Thanks for all the favorites, follows, and reviews. Those really make my day. And thanks to everyone who 'favorited' my other fics; I really appreciate it. And my apologies for the delay in posting – just life getting in the way.

And to the guest reviewer who commented why don't they just stage a car accident where Castle has to have liver surgery, where's the fun in that? If the eagles had just carried Frodo to Mt. Doom to destroy the ring, the Lord of the Rings would have been a lot shorter.

# # # # # # # # # #

 **Chapter 6 Building a Bridge**

With music from CSI playing softly in the background, Castle stared at the blank wall of the room and then at the marker in his hand. It wasn't as slick as what he had at home, but it would do in a pinch.

Starting on the far left side of the wall, he carefully story-board a sequence of events to fit the narrative – the CIA had intercepted him on his way to the wedding and 'requested' that he help them on a top secret mission to save the world. And he didn't have the option of saying 'No.'

Yeah, that would work. And now the details – why him and why that particular day?

So start from the beginning – who was he? An author – to be more precise, a best-selling mystery writer – someone important.

"Really, Castle?" drawled Beckett, standing in the corner, arms crossed over the light blue button-down shirt she wore, her dark short hair moving slightly as she tilted her head. "Need any help with your over-sized ego there?"

Castle smirked at her. "I'd be glad to let you bring it down a notch."

"As if," she responded, taunting him with a knowing smile on her face.

"But that won't bring you home to me," a long-haired version of Beckett said sadly, his shirt that she wore falling off of one shoulder.

"Focus, I need to focus, not fantasize," Castle said, shaking his head and staring at the wall. "I worked with the CIA—"

"Worked with?" questioned the short-haired Beckett. "Really?"

Castle shrugged. "All right, I shadowed the CIA, but I knew people there. I still know people there. It's on my website, so someone knew about that and used it."

"You were a linchpin," said the long-haired Beckett. "It had to be our day and it had to be you saving the world."

Castle shook his head as he tapped the marker against the wall. "No, too obvious – not me, someone else. They were saving the world. I was just there to help."

He wasn't the star, the main character of the story – that would draw too much attention. He was a minor player, albeit an important one, a combination of Ishmael in Moby Dick and Osrick in Hamlet.

The short-haired Beckett pursed her lips. "Okay. So what was this person saving the world from?"

Castle paused a moment. A dirty bomb? No, again too obvious if someone knew about New York and he was certain that all of TPTB had been briefed.

What was generic enough to not set off alarms that this story had been fabricated? Terrorism of course, probably foreign, he thought, nodding as a light bulb went off.

Someone wanted to switch sides, to come in and spill their guts, but their contact had been taken out before that could happen.

But that someone knew Castle, trusted him. And now the CIA needed him to help bring that person in. He himself wasn't directly involved with saving the world, just delivering the person who could.

The long-haired Beckett leaned in and whispered seductively in his ear. "But tell me, if the need was so immediate, why did it take so long for you to come back home once the person came in?"

"Something went wrong," frowned Castle. "I had no choice. It wasn't safe to come back home yet."

"Home?" asked the long-haired Beckett, frowning herself. "You weren't even here in the States?"

Castle shook his head. "No, we weren't. 'He' wasn't here. We had to go to him."

"Where?" asked the short-haired Beckett.

Castle shrugged. "I don't know – some place remote – the mid-east, Asia, an island maybe—"

"You went on our honeymoon without me?" the long-haired Beckett protested suddenly, pulling back from him.

"No, no, I wouldn't do that," back-pedaled Castle. "I never even left here. It just has to look like I did."

"But how can you be in 2 places at one time?" the short-haired Beckett asked with a frown on her face.

"Don't ruin my story with your logic," Castle replied as the Beckett's faded away.

# # # # # # # # # #

Castle jerked awake, sitting up from the table where he had face-planted a couple of hours ago, and pulled a post-it note stuck to his cheek off.

Uh, he really had to quit writing in a caffeine-induced haze, he thought as he scrubbed at the scruff on his face. But on the bright side, he had come up with something workable.

He grabbed the stack of post-it notes and began scribbling on them as fast as he could and sticking them on the wall.

# # # # # # # # # #

"I don't think we're getting our deposit back," the woman commented as she and Hunt walked into the room and stared at the wall of notes and the squiggled lines in between.

"I think I've got something," said Castle and then quickly led them through the scenario.

"That could work," said Hunt, nodding thoughtfully, after Castle finished. "And I might even know just the person."

"Eagle?" asked the woman.

Hunt nodded. "He's set to come in and he does fit."

The woman surveyed the wall and then frowned, tapping her finger against her lips.

"What? What did I forget?" Castle asked. "Is there a flaw?"

"Yes, a major flaw," replied the woman. "You."

"Huh?" responded Castle. "How am I a flaw?"

"You'll know this isn't true," said the woman, motioning to the wall. "And we don't have months to train you how to beat a lie detector. Or even how to lie successfully."

Castle scoffed. "I'll have you know I'm a damn good poker player – I can hold my own."

The woman looked at him point-blank. "Are you willing to bet your family's lives on that?"

# # # # # # # # # #


	7. Chapt 7 Who Better Than a Mystery Writer

House of Cards

Summary: What if the events that Castle remembered in _Sleeper_ were a lie? What really happened to him during the 2 months he was missing? And what are the consequences now? SPOILER WARNING – This story will go into season 8. And yeah, I chose wisely.

AN: Thanks for all the favorites, follows, and reviews. And thanks to GeekMom for the title of this chapter.

# # # # # # # # # #

 **Chapter 7 Who Better Than a Mystery Writer…?**

Defeated, Castle sat slumped in the chair, staring at the timeline on the wall.

The woman was absolutely right, Yes, he could play poker with the big dogs, but who was he to go up against the company? He would slip up at some point and they would know, and then where would he and his family be? Probably not some place good.

So what were his options? he thought as he drew 'ALWAYS' on a post-it-note, carefully coloring in the block letters.

He could go back, tell his family what had happened, and then get the hell out of Dodge. But what kind of life would that be, always on the run, always looking over their shoulder? He had had a taste of that when Beckett had been framed by Bracken and he wouldn't force anyone to live like that.

Maybe he should just cut their losses and leave…just like his father had done. But he couldn't do that to his family either; he wouldn't do that to Kate, to leave her guessing as to what happened to him, especially on what was supposed to be one of the happiest days of their lives.

There had to be some other way and he would move heaven and earth to find it. He thumbed a stray tear off his cheek and picked up the post-in note, blurring the ink slightly and then stuck it to the wall before walking out of the room in search of the woman and his father.

# # # # # # # # # #

Castle found them in Hunt's room, his father asleep, the woman sitting on the couch and reading a foreign newspaper using a small book light.

"Can I talk to you?" he whispered.

"Sure," said the woman softly, quietly folding the newspaper and walking out of the room.

They stepped into a small conference room.

"To answer your question," Castle said after a few seconds. "No, I'm not willing to risk the lives of my family. But I _**want**_ to go back home – I _**have**_ to go back home."

The woman nodded as he talked.

"So there's got to be another option," said Castle. He looked at her desperately. "What about erasing my memory? Will that work?"

The woman paused for a few seconds and considered the implications. "It's not as easy as it sounds, Richard. There are a few methods, but there are always risks of erasing too little or too much. And we're talking about changing weeks of memories that are already ingrained in your consciousness, not a single event."

"But you _**can**_ do it," Castle said hopefully.

"To some degree," conceded the woman. "The easiest thing might be to interrupt memory reconsolidation of these last few weeks. But that would leave you with a large gap in your memory and still doesn't take care of our biggest problem."

Castle frowned as she added, "You. From what I've read about you, you have this tenacious tendency to track down the answers."

Castle's eyes narrowed in thought. "But what if I had the answers – or I could find the answers? A mystery that I could solve? Would that work? Could those answers replace my memories?"

The woman nodded slightly. "I suppose that's possible. What are you thinking?"

"We already have a mission – someone on the opposite side wants to come in and give us information, but there was a problem and the company had to get me to do it," Castle spoke as he paced. He stopped and looked at the woman. "What if we actually do it? And leave clues for me to find that point to the mission?"

"And how would we do that?" asked the woman. "Need I remind you that you and your father are probably on the 'shoot on sight' list? We can't go to the company."

"No, no," replied Castle, shaking his head. "That's the beauty of this. They wouldn't have to help – in fact, it would be better if they don't know. I'm sure they have covert operations going on all the time – or some agency does. And we wouldn't have to leave the continent. I just have to think we did and everything has to point to that."

"Okay, I'm listening," said the woman.

"Well, a remote island is out of the question, but what about a tropical rainforest, specifically the Hoh Rainforest in Washington?" Castle asked. "That could serve as a tropical location where the mission takes place."

The woman frowned. "It's a 2-day drive there and I'm not sure your father has the strength right now for that."

Castle frowned in return as he sat down in a seat. "If we're going to do this, I probably shouldn't have any further contact with him," he said quietly.

The woman nodded. "True. That's less memory to 'erase'." She hummed slightly. "That has possibilities, but we'd have to reinforce those memories somehow."

It was Castle's turn to hum as he pondered the situation. "I'm a visual learner – what if we record it? Make a movie?"

"A movie?" asked the woman.

"Shot on cell phone," Castle replied. "And the plot is mercenaries chasing agents trying to bring in an informant."

The woman nodded. "That could work. We wouldn't need much."

"A couple of vehicles, a couple of thugs—" Castle stopped suddenly and looked at the woman. "Hunt said something about the 'Eagle'?"

The woman smiled at him slightly. "Yes, he'll be here in a couple of hours. But it's probably best if you don't meet anyone else until we're ready to start – to give it more authenticity."

She frowned slightly. "But we'll need something to point you down the golden brick road."

Castle nodded. "How about a hidden message to my family?" He swallowed thickly. "I'd like to leave them a message any way – in case this doesn't work out – just so that they would know. And that message could have a clue in it as to the mission."

The woman thought a moment and then nodded. "Let me set things up. It'll take a couple of days."

Castle nodded in return. "Okay. So is there something I can do in the meantime?"

"Yes," the woman replied, smiling slightly. "Try not to use your brain too much until we start – less memories to work with that way."

# # # # # # # # # #


	8. Chapt 8 Moses Has Left the Building

House of Cards

Summary: What if the events that Castle remembered in _Sleeper_ were a lie? What really happened to him during the 2 months he was missing? And what are the consequences now? SPOILER WARNING – This story will go into season 8. And yeah, I chose wisely on a couple of things as it turns out.

AN: Thanks for all the favorites, follows, and reviews. And this is a little long, but there wasn't a good stopping point. I've quoted from _Driven_ , _Montreal_ , and _Sleeper_ so those are in italics.

# # # # # # # # # #

 **Chapter 8 Moses Has Left the Building**

Castle was bored – more specifically, the kind of mind- and butt-numbing boredom that came while you waited for something to happen – for anything to happen at this point – to break the monotony. He knew that it would take a while to set everything up, but he didn't expect it to take this long, he almost whined to no one in particular.

After his talk with the woman (whose name he had yet to be told), he had been left mostly alone, his only companions the nurses and doctors who poked and prodded him and a physical therapist named Henry Jenkins who took him on supervised walks around the complex several times a day.

Although Jenkins was decent company and could converse on a wide variety of subjects, Castle was pretty sure his sole purpose was to make sure Castle didn't leave AMA. Castle was antsy enough now that he might do it and take his chances. But the thought of what could happen to his family if he did always stopped him.

Apparently, the woman had been serious when she had told him not to use his brain to develop any new memories, so all contact with the outside world had been cut off.

So, with nothing else to do, he played endless games of Angry Birds on the idevice that Jenkins had given him and the days blurred into one another with the endless repetition. In fact, he wasn't even sure what day it was now.

When he was back home (and, yes, he was going back home one way or another), he swore he'd never play another game of Angry Birds. But then again, if things went right, he probably wouldn't remember this, so what did it matter anyway?

Castle looked up from where he sat slouched on the couch as the door opened and the doctor (whose name he didn't know either) walked in.

"Hello, Mr. Castle," the man said cheerfully, pushing an ultrasound machine into the room. "How are we doing?"

"Same as the last couple of weeks," Castle said with a fake smile. "Thinking about repainting if I'm going to be here much longer."

"I'd personally go with 'Daydream' blue. I find it very calming," the man said as he took Castle's blood pressure and pulse. "Have you had any discomfort? Any pain?"

Castle shook his head. "No, none."

"Good," said the doctor. He gestured at the bed. "If you don't mind."

Castle stood and walked over to the bed, taking off his shirt as he went. They had done ultrasounds several times a week, so he knew what to expect.

The doctor examined the incisions and nodded. "Those have healed nicely. Now, if you'll lay on your left side, arms over your head."

The doctor then turned off the lights and draped Castle's side with a towel before squeezing on the warm gel and spreading it with the tip of the transducer probe.

"And take a deep breath, and hold it," said the doctor.

Castle did as instructed, feeling the slight pressure on his side from the probe.

"You can breathe," said the doctor. He moved the probe and said, "Now take another deep breath and hold it."

The doctor took several more readings. "That's it for now." He studied the iPad he held. "Your B 12 levels are still down, so we're going to give you another shot."

"What ever will I do with the energy?" Castle quipped as the doctor swabbed his arm with rubbing alcohol. "Although I'm not sure they are doing any good. I seem to be sleeping a lot."

"You did just have major surgery, so that's to be expected," the doctor replied as he finished and put a band aid over the spot.

Castle nodded as he shrugged his shirt back on. "Thanks, doc – see you in a little while," he said as the doctor rolled the ultrasound machine out of the room.

He sat back down on the couch and picked up the idevice. Now where he had been…?

# # # # # # # # # #

The woman stood in front of the monitor, observing Castle's interaction with the doctor and then reading his latest labs. She turned as Jenkins walked into the room.

"Everything's in place, so we're ready to begin," he said.

The woman nodded. "Good. It's important that Richard believes this is real."

"Oh, he will," Jenkins replied and turned to leave.

The woman stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Without killing him. It would be a shame for him to survive surgery only to die of post-op complications."

"We'll be gentle," said Jenkins with a slight smile and a pat on her hand.

# # # # # # # # # #

Castle looked up as the door to his room opened and Jenkins walked in. He put down the idevice with a sigh. "Time for my walk again?"

"No, we're mixing things up. It's moving day," said Jenkins. "Ready to go?"

"And actually do something?" replied Castle as he stood. "You have no idea."

He then paused for a moment. As much as he wanted to jump without looking, for once in his life, he did have some qualms about the consequences. "So what happens now?"

"It's simple really," Jenkins said. "We do the mission and then replace your current memories with those memories. And create clues that will lead you to the false memories."

Castle made a face. "As easy as that, huh?"

Jenkins shrugged slightly. "Not quite, but it can be done."

"And what if something goes wrong?" Castle asked worriedly. "What if you replace too much?"

"We'll try to not let that happen," Jenkins replied.

"Uh, I asked…the woman," it felt strange not knowing her name, "if I could leave a message for my family…in case it doesn't go right."

Jenkins nodded. "We've made arrangements for that. They'll be one of the clues that will guide you to what we want you to know."

"Right, got it," said Castle. He frowned as Jenkins pulled out a blindfold and handed it to him.

"Think of this as the first clue," Jenkins said.

Castle nodded and then put on the blindfold. Humph – this wasn't as much fun as with Beckett.

# # # # # # # # # #

The new location turned out to be an abandoned warehouse. They had driven quite a while with a lot of turns, so for all Castle knew, they could be right next to the hospital where he had been sequestered.

"Okay, if this is a lair, can I just say... disappointing. I mean, where's the mood lighting?" Castle quipped, looking around the empty floor of the dirty warehouse.

"We spent the money elsewhere," Jenkins replied drily.

He handed Castle a video camera, a tripod, and 3 data cards. "We've made arrangements for a safety deposit box at the Montreal Global Bank for you. The geotagging and date and time stamp have been disabled so it's not easily traceable. I'll leave you to this, but we've got to move pretty fast."

Castle nodded as he looked around thoughtfully. What could his future self use to identify this place if they truly wanted him to find it?

Too bad the windows were white-washed – a little glimpse of outside could pinpoint the location fairly quickly. But that would make solving this mystery too easy and then his future self would probably be suspicious that this had been fabricated, which it really had been…

He studied the windows more intently. Yes, they were white-washed, but you could make out slight patterns if you stared long enough. If Tory could use geo-positioning software, she might be able to locate this building, but that would take time and police resources.

He set up the tripod so that the camera faced the window.

But now, more importantly, what did he want to say to his family – to Alexis, Martha, and most of all Kate? Especially if this didn't go as planned and his future self wasn't here to find the cards. He thought for a moment and put the first card in the camera and turned it on.

" _Kate, if you're seeing this … well, if you're seeing this, I'm probably dead. I want you to know, I never intended to leave you, not like this, not on our wedding day, but I – it wasn't my choice. I wish I could tell you what's going on, I wish I could explain … but just know that I love you. I've always loved you. Always."_

# # # # # # # # # #

Showered and freshly shaved, Castle changed into the clothes that Jenkins had left for him, and then put on a baseball hat and sunglasses. Those would hopefully prevent any facial recognition programs from locating him in case someone was looking for him.

The manager of the Montreal Global Bank was discreet and accommodating as they went into the safety deposit room and opened box 38. Castle put the envelopes inside, closed the box, and then handed Jenkins the key so that it could make its way back to his future self when the time was right.

After they walked outside, Castle scanned the crowd, looking for a way to leave another clue. He was sure Kate was still looking for him, that she would never quit looking for him, but he needed to leave evidence of where he was.

He finally spotted a young couple, obviously on their honeymoon, and stared at them enviously. If things had been different, he and Kate would be on their honeymoon.

But he could use them, he thought as he watched the husband take copious pictures of the wife.

He waited until they were at just the right angle and took off the hat and sunglasses, making sure that he and Jenkins were in the line of sight for the picture.

As they got into the non-descript car, Castle put on the blindfold again and then sat back for the ride to the 'secret' location.

Dinner was waiting for them, but after a few bites, Castle found he wasn't very hungry and lay down on the cot, finally giving in to the sleep that was pulling at him. It had been a long, stressful day after all.

# # # # # # # # # #

It was the dream again, the same vivid 3-D dream he had been having the last few weeks.

He's in the car, talking to Kate, on the way to his wedding. He has just hung up when he notices the Black Escalade following him. He tries to get away from it, but it keeps following him, eventually rear-ending him, sending the Mercedes into a skid that he can't correct. He ends up in a ditch, the air bag going off as the car slams to a stop, the force momentarily stunning him.

The next thing he knows, the car doors are jerked open and he is man-handled out of the car. His hands are quickly zip-tied behind his back. Two men drag him up the side of the embankment to the Escalade, where they drag him to the back of the vehicle and start to put him in.

That's usually where the dream ends, but this time, gunfire erupted and one of the men stumbled against the car, loosening his hold on Castle.

As Castle tumbled to the ground, he realized that his side burned like a hot poker had been placed against his skin. He glanced down to see a gash and blood covering the side of his tuxedo shirt. He had been shot – is this real?

The other man brought his gun up, but collapsed as the second round of gunfire sounded.

Castle twisted around at the sound of feet running towards him, trying to make out who the person is – friend or foe?

"Are you hit?" the man, a Chuck Norris look-alike, barked as he knelt in the dirt and cut the zip-ties off Castle's wrists.

Castle sat up and coughed slightly, feeling the burn in his ribs. "Just grazed."

The man grabbed Castle's arm and pulled him upright, leaning him against the SUV. He then surveyed the area carefully, using the SUV as a shield. A radio squawked to life in the front of the SUV and Castle heard Russian.

"We've got to get out of here now," the man said urgently. "Can you walk?"

Castle looked back down at his car burning in the ditch and shook his head, a movement he immediately regretted. "No – I've got to get home."

"Negative," said the man. "They'll be waiting for you there. We've got to get you some place safe."

"But my family—"

"The less they know, the safer they'll be." The man raised his rifle as a car skidded to a stop in front of them.

The door was flung open. "Sorry I'm late," said Phil Bartlet. "Had to take care of a tail."

Castle stared at his old classmate from Faircroft. "What the h—"

"Less talk, more action," said the Chuck Norris look-alike as he pushed Castle towards the car. "Get in now."

# # # # # # # # # #

Castle sat in the back seat, pressing a rag against his ribs to staunch the bleeding.

"What's going on?" he asked as the car sped away from the crash site. The back windows were blacked out so he couldn't tell where they were.

"We're company men," said Bartlet. "And those were anti-company men."

"You're CIA?" questioned Castle, clearly confused. "Who were they – KGB?"

"Probably – or mercenaries," answered Bartlet.

"And we're going to make you an offer you can't refuse," the Chuck Norris look-alike said, twisting in his seat to look out Castle. "Jeff Powers."

They shook hands as Castle frowned at him. "What's this about?"

"A high-level Al-Qaeda member recently contacted us to let us know that something big is going down. He wants to come in, but his contact was killed before they could get him out," said Powers.

Castle shook his head. "So what does this have to do with me?"

"Because he knows you, Rick," said Bartlet looking in the mirror at Castle, "and you know him. Remember Jafari, the exchange student at Faircroft?"

"Bilal?" Castle asked after a moment.

"One in the same," said Barlet. "One of his cousins recruited him several years ago, but he's grown a conscious. After his contact was killed, he said he'll only come in with someone he trusts. And that someone is you."

Castle shook his head as he looked at the doors in the back of the car – there were no door handles – and started to panic. "No, no – there's got to be another way. I'm getting married today. I've got to go home."

"Negative, Rescue Ranger. The Russians try to intercept you because they want Jafari too," replied Powers. "And this is a matter of national security. Tens of thousands of lives are at stake. Your wedding can wait."

Castle shook his head again as darkness swirled around him. "No, no – I've got to go…home…" he said as he slumped over on the seat.

# # # # # # # # # #

Castle awoke to sounds of a jungle around him and struggled to sit up on the cot he was on, holding his side. He looked around and took in his surroundings.

Definitely an airfield – a Grumman C-2 Greyhound sat on the runway with several military-style trucks parked near it. Definitely not Toronto anymore.

" _Long time, Rick_ ," said Bartlet, walking over to him now that he was awake.

"Yeah," Castle growled as he swatted at a mosquito. "Looks like I didn't have a choice after all."

"Not really," said Bartlet.

"Then let's get this over with," Castle replied.

"Jafari is in a small village about 10 klicks north-east," said Powers. "We can take the trucks in as far as 8 klicks but the rest will have to be on foot."

"Here," said Bartlet, handing Castle a duffel bag. "You can change over there."

Castle walked to the small shed and quickly changed from his dirty tux to camo fatigues. As he stripped, he noticed that his side had been taped up.

He then walked back to where Bartlet and Powers stood.

"Now let's make you blend in," said Bartlet as he dipped his fingers in a small container he held and then smeared the paint on Castle's face.

They then walked over to the truck and climbed into the back.

The ride was quick but bumpy and Castle had to hang on for dear life a couple of times as the truck bounded over the rutted road.

The last 2 klicks were on foot, with Bartlet in the lead and Powers bringing up the rear.

They stopped when they reached the outskirts of the village, staying hidden in the trees as they scoped out the area.

"Looks like the Russians got here first," whispered Bartlet as he pointed out two men standing guard near a hut. "Jafari should be in there." He looked around and then motioned. "This way."

The team slowly moved through the jungle, stealth fully approaching the hut from the back.

Bartlet took out his cell phone and lowered it to take a shot under the edge. They were in luck; Jafari was there, tied up, but alone.

Powers pulled out a large knife out of the sheath strapped to his leg and carefully slit the back of the hut open and then motioned Castle inside.

Castle paused half-way in the hut, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting before going in all the way.

Jafari's eyes lit up when he saw Castle, who put a finger to his lips to caution the man.

The writer quietly walked to where Jafari sat and pulled out a small knife, quickly cutting through the ropes.

They carefully crept to the back of the hut and slipped through the opening.

Bartlet nodded at them and quickly led them away through the jungle.

They had only gone a little more than 1 klick when shots rang out.

"We're blown," Powers yelled into his radio as they ran, crashing through the ferns. "We're coming in hot."

They had just made it to the waiting trucks when the bullets whizzed past them and several men crashed through the thicket.

As Castle was climbing into the truck, he almost lost his grip as the wood frame splintered above his hand from a shot. He hefted himself into the back and reached for Jafari who started to climb on board.

The man suddenly slumped against him as another shot sounded.

"Get down," hissed Powers as he shouldered his rifle. He thumped the back of the truck to signal they were on board and the truck took off, going as fast as it could over the bumpy road.

Castle glanced at himself in the mirror on the side of the truck and then looked down at Jafari.

"It's a through and through," said Bartlet. "Here," he said to Castle, handing him a strip of cloth. "Keep pressure on it."

"Right," said Castle as they switched positions, so that Bartlet and Powers could shoot at the truck following them.

"Sorry…about…this," hissed Jafari through the pain. "But I…needed someone…I could…trust. Someone important – whose disappearance would be questioned."

"It wasn't up for debate," Castle replied, almost chortling at his quip.

They reached the airstrip ahead of the vehicle that pursued them and quickly boarded the waiting plane.

Castle held his breath and watched out the window as the plane took off and saw the other vehicle pull onto the end of the runway, the men piling out of the truck and firing into the air.

He looked back at where Jafari lay, the medic on board tending to his wound, and suddenly felt light-headed. His last thought as darkness swirled around him was that he had hit his head harder than he thought.

# # # # # # # # # #

"Richard, Richard," the woman's voice was low in warning as it pierced through the fog that surrounded him. "They've found you. They're coming. Run."

Castle jerked awake, knocking the things that tried to stop him out of his way. Tent, he was in a tent? Why?

Barefoot, he stumbled out of the flap and paused to take in his location. It was night and he was near the water? But he wouldn't have camped here – well, not in his right mind, which he obviously wasn't, he thought as the world tilted crazily again.

"Run, Richard," the woman's voice said again.

Castle looked around in a panic. Where could he run? The lights in the distance cut off access to higher ground, so his only choice was to go down along the waterline.

A dock, his fuzzy mind latched on to – and a boat.

He quickly untied the dingy and climbed in, pushing it away from the dock.

The first attempt to start the engine failed and he could see the lights hurrying towards him as the noise from the sputtering engine cut through the night air.

On the second attempt, the engine started and he steered away into open water, but not before two shots pierced the hull.

# # # # # # # # # #

"Well, that's that," said the woman as she sat in the trailer and watched the blip on the screen move away from land. She picked up her phone and dialed a number.

"Moses has left the building," she said simply. "Yes, it took longer than expected. Let's just say he was more resistant than we originally thought, even with all the crazy theories he believes in."

She paused and then replied. "The weather is good and they should spot him in a day or two, so we don't anticipate any problems."

She nodded. "I've got Beckett covered. Take care of yourself. You know how to reach me if you need to."

With that, she hung up and took the battery and SIM card out of the phone. She dropped the SIM card on the ground and crushed it with the heel of her boot, and then dropped the items in the trash bag.

She looked at Jenkins. "Make sure no one disturbs the site. We'll call when we need you."

# # # # # # # # # #

Several nights later, the light from the Coast Guard ship highlighted a small dingy.

" _This is the United States Coast Guard. Please reply if you are in distress or need assistance_ ," boomed over the loud speaker as it drew closer.

# # # # # # # # # #


	9. Chapter 9 Back to Square One

House of Cards

Summary: What if the events that Castle remembered in _Sleeper_ were a lie? What really happened to him during the 2 months he was missing? And what are the consequences now? SPOILER WARNING – This story will go into season 8. And yeah, I chose wisely on a couple of things as it turns out after reading the spoilers.

AN: Once again, thanks for all the reviews, follows, and favorites.

Sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter out; I didn't want to repeat much of what was in _Driven_ or in the other episodes of season 7, so they are just referenced. I have used some of the dialog from _Driven_ and it's in italics.

And ever notice that if the wedding date was in May (and I'm picking a date) and the date on Castle's wrist band in the hospital read 10/2/2014, so he was gone more than 2 months? Ah, the magic of time compression on TV. And that Gloucester, MA is about 250 miles away from NYC? Wonder if they took a plane or drove really fast? And this story assumes that Castle was airlifted to a hospital in NYC.

# # # # # # # # # #

 **Chapter 9 Back to Square One**

# # # # # # # # # #

Martha thumbed the phone off and then pressed it against her lips lightly. This was the news she had been waiting for since her acting studio had been broken into about a week and a half ago.

Katherine was spending the night at her apartment and the older woman didn't want to disturb her when the alarm company called her in the wee hours of the morning. She left Alexis sleeping as she quietly walked out of the loft to the squad car that Bob had so kindly sent.

A very nice and hunky Detective Tom Demming from Robbery was waiting for her at the studio to help with the walkthrough and gathering of evidence.

Martha steeled herself before she walked in, not knowing what the damage would be, but to her surprise, there was none.

Demming surmised that the alarm had scared the burglar off when he had popped the lock on the front door and opened it. The security guard had shown up almost immediately afterwards, another deterrent to the crime.

Martha walked around her studio, taking a careful inventory. Nothing was missing, nothing was disturbed, but that changed when she got to her office.

The door was still locked and everything looked the same as when she had left it yesterday evening, except…an Operation game lay on the credenza, hidden by some folders she knew she hadn't left out.

Wearing the purple gloves that Demming had given her (and they really did clash with her orange outfit), she moved the folders and opened the game, surveying the contents. It was exactly like the one Richard had had as a child. But carefully tucked under the board was a Valentine card with post-op instructions for living liver donors. 'To My Funny Valentine' was printed neatly on the envelope, and the card had the words 'Soon' and 'Goodbye' neatly printed at the bottom.

She almost let out a gasp as she remembered the scene in Richard's bedroom several months before and knew without a doubt who her son was with and that he had to be safe if his father had left this note for her. Now it was just a matter of waiting for 'Soon.'

Coming back to the present, Martha walked to the bottom of the stairs and cleared her throat slightly. "Alexis, darling, they've found your father," she called out. "They're taking him to the hospital now."

The door to Alexis' bedroom burst open and the red-haired young woman almost flew down the stairs to her grandmother.

# # # # # # # # # #

"The package just arrived," said the woman as she picked up her phone.

"About damn time," growled Hunt. "Maybe we should have just shot off a flare so they could have found him faster."

The woman patted his arm reassuringly. "We knew it was a risk."

She turned her attention back to the phone as Jenkins answered. "You should have visitors shortly. Signal me when you're ready for Castle to wake up."

With that, she ended the call and pulled on a white doctor's coat. She looked back at Hunt. "This time, will you stay put? Any more outings could jeopardize everything we've done."

"All right," Hunt conceded. This inactivity would likely kill him faster than the poison would have, but since he was 'retired', he'd have to learn to cope in this not-so-brave new world. He looked at the name tag on her coat and quirked an eyebrow. "Dr. Swan, I presume?"

# # # # # # # # # #

Beckett was already in Castle's room, holding his sunburned hand, when Alexis and Martha rushed in.

Her son's stillness bothered her, but at least he was here and he was alive.

Since there were no obvious signs of trauma, the doctor was hopeful about his recovery, but he still wanted to run more tests just to make sure.

When they wheeled Castle out for a CT scan, Beckett went searching for Espo and Ryan, and then left the hospital to talk to the Coast Guard captain who had found Castle.

After their talk and Ryan's and Espo's discovery, Beckett called Martha to let them know she would be out most of the day chasing a lead and to please call her if anything happened. Otherwise, she would be back that evening.

# # # # # # # # # #

Several hours later after they had wheeled the still-unconscious Castle back into his room, Martha finally convinced Alexis to take a break and get a quick bite in the hospital cafeteria after a nurse had come in to change the IV.

After Alexis left, she quickly put down the magazine she wasn't reading, stood, and walked over to the side of Castle's bed.

Martha paused for a moment, studying her son.

He had never been this still in all of his life and none of the doctors had said anything, had asked about previous surgeries. She knew she couldn't tell them what she thought she knew, but she had to know for certain.

Pressing her lips together in a thin line, she carefully pulled the sheet down to his waist and carefully lifted up the hospital gown, examining his chest.

Two long scrapes marred the lower right side of his ribs – Lanie had said that he had been grazed by bullets – but that wasn't what she was looking for. Or was it? she thought as she ran her hand over the marks. Yes, it could be…

"Oh, Richard," she said softly. What had her impulsive son done and would it cause him any problems later on?

Castle cleared his throat, making her quickly put the gown back, as he slowly blinked his eyes open.

"Mom?" he croaked, throat dry, slightly confused, reaching his free hand up to rub his face.

"Right here, kiddo," said Martha, putting some ice chips on a spoon and guiding them to his lips. "Not too fast."

"Where…?" Castle asked after the ice chips had melted.

Martha put a hand on his shoulder. "You're in the hospital. You're going to be fine," she said, smiling, eyes tearing up.

"Kate?" Castle asked again, closing his eyes for a moment.

"She's not here, darling," Martha reassured. "She had something to take care of, but she'll be back in a little while."

Castle nodded and then blinked his eyes open again. "Sorry about the wedding," he whispered.

Martha shook her head. "No, no, it's fine – just so long as you're all right," she said as she offered him more ice chips.

Castle coughed slightly and then nodded. "Just a little bump on the head from the wreck." He closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them again. "Listen, if we put everyone up in hotels, we can have the wedding tomorrow. The flowers may be a little wilted, but the food should still be good. I mean, wedding cake is good for a year, right? And you've got my tux, right – they didn't cut it off me in the ER, did they?"

Martha frowned at him worriedly, not knowing what to say. "Let me get the doctor," she finally decided on and pushed the call button.

"Mr. Castle is awake," she said when the nurse answered.

Alexis walked into the room a few moments before the doctor came in. "Dad!" she yelled and ran to his side, leaning down to give him a hug. "You're awake."

"Hey, Pumpkin," he said, hugging her back. "Yeah, it takes a lot more than a car wreck to get rid of me."

"Mr. Castle, it's good to see you awake," the doctor said. "How are you feeling?"

"A little shaky, but fine, all things considered." He smiled at the doctor. "How soon can I get out of here? I've got a wedding to attend."

Alexis frowned at Martha, who discreetly shook her head.

"Well, we'll have to see about that," said the doctor. "Now, can you tell me your name?"

Castle nodded. "Richard Edgar Castle, formerly Richard Alexander Rodgers."

The doctor nodded. "And the date?"

"May 16, 2015," Castle replied confidently.

The doctor merely nodded as Alexis frowned at Martha again.

"And can you tell me what happened?" the doctor asked.

"Yeah," said Castle as he looked at his hands. They were stiff, the skin on the back red – when had that happened? "I was driving to the wedding and had just finished talking to Kate. I hung up and that's when I noticed this SUV following me." He paused, trying to pull the details out of his foggy brain. "Then they bumped me and I wound up in a ditch. The air bag went off."

"So you were in a wreck?" queried the doctor.

"Yes, on my way to the wedding," Castle nodded. "Oh, damn," he said suddenly, "surely they stopped to help? They weren't paparazzi, were they? Because if they caused the wreck and then took off, I am so going to sue…whoever they were."

"And that's all you remember?" the doctor asked.

Castle nodded. "The SUV, the wreck, and then waking up here. Why? What's going on?"

The doctor looked at Martha who shook her head slightly. "Probably nothing," he hedged, "but I'm ordering a neuro consult just to make sure."

"Okay," Castle said uncertainly and then paused before looking at Martha. "Mother, do you have my phone? I need to call Kate."

Martha shook her head as she put a hand on his shoulder. "No, dear – it was crushed…in the wreck…"

Castle let out an exasperated groan. "Now I'll have to get a new phone and a new car." He looked at Martha and Alexis. "How about one of your phones?"

"They don't allow cell phones in the hospital," said Martha quickly. "But you stay right here and we'll go call her to let her know you're awake."

"Okay," said Castle, frowning slightly.

"We'll be right back," Alexis said as she quickly kissed him on the cheek and then grabbed her grandmother's arm, pulling her out of the room.

As soon as the door closed, she hissed, "What's going on? Dad thinks it's the day of the wedding."

Martha shook her head as she looked at the doctor hopefully.

"I'll know more after the neuro consult," the doctor said and then walked to the nurses' station to write the orders.

"I'll text Beckett to let her know that Richard is awake," said Martha.

# # # # # # # # # #

Beckett's reply text said simply that they were several hours away and she would be back as soon as she could.

Martha replied that Beckett should find her immediately when she arrived at the hospital.

And so it was an unfortunate series of events that allowed Beckett to show up in Castle's hospital room without anyone seeing her first to let her know what was going on.

Having found the incriminating evidence, Beckett was in no mood for banter and stood stiffly at the end of Castle's bed, a frown on her face, demanding to know what had happened.

She finally reached the limit of her patience. _"So the black SUV and waking up here – that's all that you remember?"_

Castle nodded. _"Right, yes, why?"_

" _You've been missing for 2 months,"_ Beckett replied almost angrily.

Castle stared at her in disbelief. "No – no, it's May 16th – we're supposed to be getting married today," he said, shaking his head. "I was run off the road on the way to the wedding."

At that moment, the nurse walked in with a wheel chair, Martha and Alexis following behind.

"Mr. Castle," the nurse said, "I'm here to take you to your neuro consult."

Castle squinted his eyes at her, trying to make sense of everything, and then looked at Martha and Alexis expectantly, a pained expression on his face.

Martha simply nodded in response.

"Damn," said Castle as he lay back in bed, running a trembling hand through his hair.

They were so close – this couldn't have happened.

# # # # # # # # # #

The neuro consult was more of an interrogation where Castle answered the same frustrating questions over and over again.

No, he really thought today was May 16th. The last thing he remember was being run off the road and crashing into the culvert, the air bag exploding into his face.

There was no in-between – nothing – nothing even a glimmer of a memory of that missing time.

Castle was in a foul mood when the nurse finally wheeled him back into his room, a glower marring his handsome features.

# # # # # # # # # #

The talk Martha, Alexis, and Beckett had with the doctor did not reassure them in any way. All scans showed there was no damage so the doctors had no explanation as to why this happened.

As Martha and Alexis Beckett walked over to the desk to talk with the doctor about releasing Castle, Beckett stopped Dr. Swan. The doctor merely confirmed a fear that Beckett herself didn't know had been there – that Castle had become bored with her and had merely walked away.

With that in mind, she walked into Castle's room, where he stood staring stonily at the wall.

" _To say I owe you an apology seems like an understatement,"_ he started.

# # # # # # # # # #

The reality of the situation – that something else had really happened and Castle hadn't walked away – started to nibble away at Beckett's doubts after they met the real Jenkins and verified his identity.

But the pain of the last few months, the uncertainty, still weighed heavily on her. She knew it would take time to heal from this.

Even though she chose to believe him, her doubts were still lingered in the background and Castle himself had doubts after finding the messages he had left.

But they chose to move forward together, holding onto healing and the future yet to be.

# # # # # # # # # #

That healing took a big step forward a few months later when they got married on the spur of the moment. It was magical, everything she had dreamed that it would be, even though her precinct family wasn't there. There would be time enough later to make it up to them.

Then Castle's dreams started – nightmares really – finally to be answered by the fake Jenkins about what had actually happened. That quelled the questions that had been haunting them since his disappearance.

And then Castle finally put to rest his childhood fear – the serial killer he encountered at age 11 – when they found the man and Castle himself killed him.

# # # # # # # # # #

Life's good, Castle thought as he prepared dinner for the two of them.

Martha had just moved into her own place and Alexis had moved back to the dorm so now they were alone in the loft.

Beckett had passed the Captain's exam with flying colors and had been 'invited' (very rudely, Castle still thought) to start a career in politics. Now it was a matter of her deciding what she wanted to do, maybe even law school to continue the career she had set aside after her mother was murdered.

He looked up expectantly as the door clicked open and smiled as Beckett walked into the loft.

"Hey, babe," she said, returning his smile. "Be right back."

She kicked off her shoes and walked into his study and locked her gun in the gun safe, the first thing she did every time she came into the loft.

Beckett walked back into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around him as they kissed tenderly.

"So how was your day?" she asked as they disengaged and she sat down on the stool near the kitchen island. She poured two glasses of wine from the decanter.

Castle nodded as he stirred the pot. "Good. Gina liked my idea so I'll be sending the draft to them next week. And yours?"

Beckett stalled slightly and then said seriously, "Babe, there's something we need to discuss. About the precinct."

Castle put down the spoon and turned off the fire. "Oh, this can't be good." He walked around to where Beckett sat.

She took his hands in hers. "Listen, I heard today that Captain Gates is being promoted to the head of IA now that Dickens is retiring. There's going to be a new captain at the precinct."

Castle frowned slightly, his brow creasing. "Oh – huh," he thought a moment. "So now that Bob's no longer mayor, what does that mean for us? What new battle ax am I going to have to grease to get to stay on? And do you know what they like – tickets to the Met, the Yankees? Loaning them the Ferrari is probably out of the question."

"Yeah, I do know – Gates told me today," said Beckett as she nodded and then looked up at him, her poker face in full play. "Me," she said simply.

Castle's eyes went wide and hopeful. "You?"

Beckett nodded, finally smiling. "There's a shortage of Captains in the NYPD, so with my scores on the exam and my service record, they moved me to the head of the list."

"Kate, that's great," said Castle, catching her into a tight hug and spinning her around. "You deserve it."

He quickly kissed her.

Beckett kissed him back and then pulled back slightly. "There will be some changes though. I won't be out in the field as much; there'll be more paperwork, and we'll need to bring in another detective who will take my place."

Castle smiled, still caught up in the joy of Beckett's achievement as he gave her another hug. "But we can work with that," he said.

Beckett smiled again, crinkling her nose at him. "You do know that bribing a NYC policeman is a class C felony offense. Although I will take the Ferrari. So you've been a bad, bad boy and should be punished."

Castle smirked. "Oh, can I plead for mercy?" he said as he pulled her in for a kiss.

After a minute, they parted and Castle picked up the glasses and handed one to Beckett.

"To us – the newest captain of the NYC," he said as they clinked glasses.

"And to your new Derrick Storm graphic novel, Tropical Heat," Beckett replied.

# # # # # # # # # #

Author's Notes – And for all you Demming fans out there (and come on, I know there are a few, that wasn't his big moment. That will come later. Thanks for reading.


	10. Chapter 10 That's Convenient

House of Cards

Summary: What if the events that Castle remembered in _Sleeper_ were a lie? What really happened to him during the 2 months he was missing? And what are the consequences now? SPOILER WARNING – This story will go into season 8. And yeah, I chose wisely on a couple of things as it turns out.

AN: Once again, thanks for all the reviews, follows, and favorites. And thanks for those of you who are following/favoriting my earlier stories now too. That really means a lot. Sorry this is taking so long – I'm being distracted by the sneak peeks, spoilers, real life, and work, of course. This chapter contains spoilers too and then it will go totally AU. I put actual lines from the show in italics. And yeah, less than 2 weeks to go! Hopefully I can finish this by then.

And sadly, I do not own Castle – Marlowe and ABC do. Just playing for the fun of it.

# # # # # # # # # #

 **Chapter 10 That's Convenient**

The sun hadn't even thought about rising yet when Maxine Grayson pushed the green button on the treadmill to start her 5-mile run, a task she could accomplish in less than 40 minutes, thus setting the tone for her day.

She didn't necessarily enjoy exercise – one might say that she didn't enjoy much in life in her line of work. But she could beat running into submission, a necessary evil to stay in top shape, and as she pounded the belt, she could focus on more important things, such as planning which fires to put out first, thus accomplishing two goals at one time.

Legs churning on automatic, she skimmed through the reports her subordinates had sent her. Not much here that required her attention so far – she could easily delegate them to less experienced agents.

Her running slowed slightly as she read the brief on the man known as Jackson Hunt and then she picked up the pace again. Hunt had disappeared more than a year ago and no one had seen him since. Ellison assured her that the former black ops agent had gone off to die in some corner of the world and he was no longer a threat. Still, she'd be more reassured if they had an identifiable body. Black ops ghosts had a habit of coming back to bite you in the rear unless they were properly exorcised.

The next reports were also minor, something she could sluff off, but the final report made her hit the pause button as she read it more closely and frown. Two miles would have to wait until tomorrow.

Yes, this might be a problem, something worthy of her attention, she thought as she wiped the sweat from her neck.

While the end result of last year's operation Moby D had been achieved, they weren't the ones who had done it and that left unfinished business.

Richard Castle hadn't made it to the Maldives, hadn't met Dr. Yuri, but those chances were increasing now that Black Pawn was publishing the Derrick Storm graphic novel, _Tropical Storm_.

No, this didn't bode well at all and they had to find a way to stop it.

Grayson stepped off the treadmill and picked up her phone. She knew Randy would be up already.

# # # # # # # # # #

Although he knew his time on this earth was running out quickly, Ilya Golovkin waited patiently in the alley next to the 12th precinct. He had been there most of the night, fighting the chills racking his body, not from the cold, but from whatever poison they had finally gotten him with. He pulled his ragged coat tighter around him.

After Hunt disbanded the team when Powers had been killed, Golovkin had been off the radar until something had given him away and they found him and killed him, discretely of course. But maybe they had been watching the whole time, just biding their time until they could pick them off one by one to finish the job.

But he was determined not to go gently into the night, not to give up without a fight. It was too late for him, that he was certain about, but not too late for him to bring those bs down. And he intended to do that with his dying breath.

Vengeance is mine, not the Lord's, he thought as he stumbled out of the shadows towards the front of the precinct when he saw the car he had been waiting for drive up and park.

# # # # # # # # # #

"You know, man, I'm just saying," said Ryan, as Espo pulled into his assigned spot at the precinct and parked the car as they started their shift. "Beckett's moved up – this is her first day as Captain."

"So we should throw her a party?" retorted Espo, making a slight face.

Ryan shook his head as he got out of the car and then paused. "Well, maybe," he frowned. He was certain that Castle would have free drinks on the house tonight at the Old Haunt as a way of celebration and then smiled wistfully. He couldn't stay long now that Jenny was expecting their second child. "Nah, what I'm saying is that maybe we should think about that too – moving up in the ranks. I mean, where do you want to be in 5 years?"

Espo frowned slightly as he closed his door. While he wasn't normally a deep thinker, he did have the occasional moment where he thought about the future – his future – and what he wanted. But this was something he was prone ponder in private for a while before deciding what to do.

"On a tropical beach with this good-looking—" Espo started to reply with a smirk and then was rudely interrupted as a man stumbled into him.

Golovkin clutched at Espo with trembling hands as his knees gave way. "They know…it was Castle, not Yuri—" the man wheezed out as he struggled to hold himself upright. "Warn him…not to trust anyone – Hunt—Hunt…"

The man grimaced in pain and then went slack, almost pulling Espo down with him as he crumpled to the ground.

"Javi, Javi! You okay!?" yelled Ryan as he raced around the car with his gun drawn, looking at his partner who knelt beside the man on the ground.

"Yeah," said Espo as he felt for a pulse and then looked up at Ryan and shook his head. "Got nothing."

Ryan surveyed the area to make sure the danger had passed as Espo stood, opened the car door, and thumbed on his radio. "Officer needs assistance – uh – in front of the 12th precinct."

"I'll call Beckett," Ryan said as the front doors of the precinct opened and several officers rushed out.

# # # # # # # # # #

As Beckett finished dressing for her first day as Captain, Castle quietly slipped out of the bedroom to put the finishing touches on the celebration he had been planning since they had received word of her promotion.

After nixing the idea of having flowers and balloons delivered to her office – go large or go home certainly didn't apply here and he was sure Beckett would kill him if he did that – he finally decided on something low-key – a large cupcake from her favorite bakery and something personal to commemorate the day.

Castle carefully took the cupcake out of the box he had hidden yesterday and placed it on the plate, and then carefully positioned the sign on top. He then put the case that held a silver bracelet with Always inscribed on it next to the plate. Yes, this was perfect.

When he heard the bedroom door open, he lit the sparklers and turned to face her with a big smile, holding the cupcake in front of him. "Congratulations, Captain Beckett," he said, quoting what was on the sign.

Beckett's smile widened as she saw what he had done and she quickly walked over to kiss him. "Thank you," she whispered.

"You deserve it," Castle said simply. "And there's more," he said, putting the cupcake on the counter and picking up the jewelry box and opening it.

Beckett gasped slightly. "It's beautiful, babe," she said, admiring the simple silver bracelet.

"To keep me with you even when I'm not there," Castle said as he took the bracelet out of the box and fastened it around Beckett's wrist. "So are you ready for this? How are you feeling?" he asked.

" _Exhilarated and excited and everything in between_ ," Beckett replied as she swiped her finger through the icing and licked it off.

"You've got this," said Castle, reaching to pull her into a hug when her phone rang. "Wow, that was quick," he commented as Beckett answered her phone.

Beckett nodded as she answered. "We'll be right there."

"Body drop?" Castle asked.

"Yeah," Beckett nodded, frowning slightly. "At the precinct."

That got Castle's attention. "An officer?" he asked urgently.

Beckett shook her head. "No, apparently some homeless guy. Ryan and Espo had just gotten to the precinct when the man bumped into Espo and then died."

"That's convenient," Castle replied. "They're delivering the bodies to your front door now."

# # # # # # # # # #

Perlmutter was finishing his preliminary observations and had just zipped up the body bag when Beckett and Castle pulled up to the precinct.

Ryan and Espo stood off to the side, making sure they gave the ME plenty of room to work, and then motioned Beckett and Castle over.

"Morning, Captain," Espo and Ryan said at the same time, racing to see who could say it first so that Beckett would be required to buy that person a drink (overlooking the fact that her husband owned a bar and gave them free drinks all the time).

"Really, guys?" Beckett replied with an eye roll. "You're doing that now when we have a body?"

"And not just any body," said Ryan as they walked over to the body bag and Espo knelt down to unzip it so they could see the man's face. "It took us a while to figure out who it was since he shaved his head and his face is yellow, but it's—"

"Ilya Golovkin," finished Beckett, looking at the body and then at Castle who shook his head.

"No – no – that's not possible. It can't be Golovkin – Jenkins killed him in the alley," Castle said as he knelt down to take a closer look. The yellow face niggled something deep in his soul.

He stood suddenly and swore, running his hands through his hair. He had been played – all along, they had been playing him and he had swallowed it hook, line, and sinker.

"Yeah, and that's not all," said Espo in a low voice so that only they could hear. "Before he died, he said that they knew it was Castle, not Yuri, and not to trust anyone and then something about a hunt."

Before any one could say anything else, they were rudely interrupted again as a black SUV squealed to stop in front of the precinct and several men in dark suits got out.

The man in front approached the group. "Captain Beckett, I'm Harlan Ellison, CIA. Rick, it's good to see you again," he said as he offered his right hand to Castle, "although I'd prefer it under different circumstances."

Castle and Ellison shook hands. "Harlan, it's been a while."

"So why's the CIA here?" asked Beckett, going into Captain mode.

Now all business, Ellison motioned to the body bag. "The deceased is one of ours – or rather, he was until he went rouge a couple of years ago. We've been looking for him since then."

"You sure?" asked Espo.

Ellison nodded. "Ilya Golovkin. We almost caught him earlier this year when he killed Jeff Powers, who was also one of ours. I believe your team worked that case?" he asked Beckett.

Beckett nodded in response. "So how can we help you?"

Ellison nodded. "It's really more of a request. I'm sure that Dr. Perlmutter will find that Golovkin was poisoned. We need to find whoever did that."

"And you can't legally operate on American soil," Castle supplied.

Ellison nodded. "No, we can't. But we need to know if Golovkin was the only target, so we need to know whatever you know about Golovkin."

Beckett nodded impassively as if considering what he said.

"Interagency cooperation between the NYPD and the CIA," Ellison added with a slight smile, hoping to seal the deal. "Just think of how good this will look to 1PP especially on the first day of your new job, Captain Beckett."

# # # # # # # # # #


	11. Chapter 11 BATNGHB Day

House of Cards

Summary: What if the events that Castle remembered in _Sleeper_ were a lie? What really happened to him during the 2 months he was missing? And what are the consequences now? SPOILER WARNING – This story will go into season 8. At this point, it's totally AU.

AN: Yeah, only 6 days to go! Hopefully I'll have this finished by then; we'll just have to see. This chapter may be a little long, but I wanted to get the story to a specific place at the end of this chapter.

# # # # # # # # # #

 **Chapter 11 Beckett and the No Good Horrible Bad Day**

Beckett escorted Ellison to her office and then stepped out briefly to confer with the team by Ryan's and Espo's desks.

"You seriously can't be thinking about helping them," Espo hissed in a low voice. "Especially with what Golovkin said." Though he had gotten over it (mostly), he still remembered how it felt to be left out when Beckett and Castle had worked with the CIA and when Beckett had worked for the Feds.

"And we're just supposed to trust Golovkin because of that?" Ryan countered. "He murdered two people."

Beckett glanced at Ellison who had taken the opportunity to move the chair he now sat in to face the bullpen, rather than having his back to the door. He had his cell phone out, talking to someone as he waited.

She looked at her team, her decision made. "We'll share just enough so that they don't yank this case from us. And they may be able to give us some useful information."

"Yes, sir," said Espo and Ryan, nodding in unison.

Before Beckett could turn to go, Castle caught her hand discreetly and held her back for a moment so they could talk privately.

"Wow – your first day as Captain and you're hobnobbing with the CIA already," he said, smiling slightly and then turned serious. "By the way, Sophia Turner worked for Ellison when I shadowed her. Just saying that you'd think he might have known something was off." He paused. "And he's kinda smarmy too."

"Smarmy?" Beckett asked, tilting her head to the side slightly.

"Kiss-ass?" Castle responded. "Brown-noser?"

Beckett nodded. "I noticed."

Castle smiled and then gave her hand a squeeze. "You've got this, Kate."

"Sorry about the chair," said Ellison as Beckett and Castle walked in her office. "Don't like my back to the door."

Beckett nodded her understanding. "We'll be glad to give the CIA any assistance that you need with Golovkin," she said simply as she walked behind her desk and sat down. Castle took the other chair in the room.

"Actually I was hoping that the NYPD would take the lead on this," said Ellison. "Unfortunately Golovkin hasn't been a high priority target for a while."

Castle quirked an eyebrow at Beckett who frowned in response.

"But you've been looking for him for several years," she commented.

Ellison nodded. "Within the context of active cases. Blame the budget cuts. Golovkin wasn't deemed a top-level threat…and there were more serious issues."

"Powers and Amber would beg to differ," Castle interjected.

Ellison nodded as he looked at him. "Yes, that was…unfortunate."

"Did they know each other – Powers and Golovkin?" Beckett asked Ellison.

The man thought for a minute and then nodded. "They worked assignments before," he answered succinctly.

"And did Powers know that Golovkin went rogue?" Castle asked.

Ellison shook his head. "No, Powers had already retired from the Company."

"That explains it," commented Castle, looking at Beckett. "Why Powers didn't fight Golovkin when he killed him," he continued when Ellison looked at him.

Ellison nodded and then looked at Beckett. "Captain, did your team ever determine why Golovkin was here in New York last spring?"

Beckett shared a look with Castle and then answered simply. "Yes, he was looking for Bilal Jafari."

"Jafari," murmured Ellison as he thought for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly. "Jafari?" He suddenly perked up. "Jafari was here? Do you know if Golovkin found him?"

Both Beckett and Castle shook their heads at the same time.

"Yes, he was, and no, Golovkin didn't," answered Beckett.

"Speculation or fact?" Ellison queried.

"Fact," said Castle. "Well, sort of," he added as an afterthought.

Ellison studied Beckett and Castle for a moment. "What I'm about to tell you is classified and not to be repeated to anyone."

Castle nodded. "I know the drill," he commented drily.

"Bilal Jafari lived in the States as an exchange student for several years before returning home," Ellison explained. "There, one of his cousins recruited him for Al-Qaeda and he moved up through the ranks, not to the top echelon, but enough that he knew important information. Last year, we got word that he wanted to return to the States, that he didn't like what they were doing. But before he could come in, his handler was killed. He disappeared before my division could make contact again."

Castle frowned at him. "So you didn't bring him in?"

"Meaning the Company, no," said Ellison, shaking his head. "But obviously someone did if he was here. He's on the no-fly list. This isn't good news."

Castle swore as he stood up and ran a hand through his hair. "I did it – I brought him in—here. I knew him at Faircroft and he said I was the only one he trusted to do it."

Ellison looked at him like he had suddenly grown a second head. "You?"

"That's where I was last year when I was missing," Castle said. "At least that's what I finally remembered and what Bilal said when I found him."

"Really?" asked Ellison, still skeptical.

Castle looked at Beckett who nodded slightly.

"When I got back, I managed to track down the bank where I had left my family messages in a safety deposit box. It was in Canada – Montreal to be precise," Castle remembered. "And then this spring, I started having nightmares; they were triggered when I saw Golovkin in the background of a news story. The memories – they just started coming back, but in fragments. Powers was in them and I went to talk to him after we ID'ed him. But Golovkin had gotten there first and killed him. Then I found Bilal. He told me about his cousin and Al-Qaeda, and that I had helped bring him in."

Ellison nodded, mulling over what Castle had just said. "I have heard stranger things."

Castle looked at him. "But if the Company didn't bring him in, who did?"

Ellison pursed his lips. "Was there anyone else who knew about this, about Jafari?"

Beckett nodded. "Henry Jenkins or more precisely a fake Henry Jenkins."

Castle nodded also. "He was there in Montreal and then he was here when I found Bilal. And he shot Golovkin in an alley just when he was going to kill me."

"Except he didn't," added Beckett.

Castle shook his head. "Not if that's Golovkin in the morgue. They faked it. Maybe they faked everything."

Ellison's phone chirped and he looked at the text message.

"I'm sorry, Captain, but I have some urgent business to take care of," he said as he stood. "I'd rather keep this in your ballpark for now, so if your department can find out where Golovkin has been, maybe we can track down whoever is running this." He paused a moment. "Rick, do you mind coming to the bunker and going through some photos? Maybe we can pinpoint who this fake Jenkins is."

"Sure," said Castle. He started to move towards Beckett to give her a goodbye kiss when he stopped suddenly, uncertain of what to do.

Beckett hid her smile and said simply, "Call me when you finish."

Castle smiled slightly and said, "Always." He then followed Ellison out.

Beckett watched them walk to the elevator with a bittersweet feeling. In the past, she would have been by his side, but she was the Captain now and had several other things that required her attention.

They had been gone a few minutes when Ryan knocked on Beckett's door.

"Captain, we've located a person of interest in the park case and the uniforms are bringing him in now," the Irish detective said.

Beckett nodded. "Okay, let me know if you need anything." She picked up her phone and called the lab. "Tori, I need you to go through the footage from the perimeter of the precinct this morning to see where our vic came from. Yes, as soon as possible. Thanks."

A few moments later, there was a knock on her door again and Beckett looked up, expecting to see either Ryan or Espo. Instead, Tom Demming stood there, a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

"Tom," she said, standing up. "It's been a while."

"Yeah, it has," said Demming. "You look good. And congratulations on making Captain, by the way."

"Thank you," said Beckett, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she walked out from behind her desk.

"You got a vase?" Demming asked, looking around.

"Yeah, I do," said Beckett as she pulled a tall vase out of the credenza. Castle insisted that she keep one in her new office in case he brought her flowers on the spur of the moment since she actually had someplace to put them now.

"That's good," Demming said as he walked over to her and handed her the flowers, standing close to her. He lowered his voice. "Kate, the man the uniforms just brought in – he's probably lawyered up by now, but he's an informant. I can get him to talk to you about the park but I can't be seen with him here."

"Hence the flowers," said Beckett.

Demming shrugged slightly. "I needed an excuse to come see you. New Captaincy – bouquet of flowers. Just tell him that Tom says 'hi' and I owe him."

Beckett nodded. "Thanks."

Demming shrugged again. "Least I could do, Captain," he said before walking out.

# # # # # # # # #

Beckett stood in the observation room, watching Espo and Ryan for a minute, before going into the interrogation room.

She nodded at the detectives. "I'll take it from here, detectives."

A confused Espo and Ryan left the room as Beckett watched the informant.

"Frances Alberico Facchini aka Frankie the Ferret," she said finally. "We have a witness who puts you in the park last week when a man was killed. In fact, she said that you were going through his wallet."

"I had nothing to do with that dead body in the park," responded Frankie quickly. "I know my rights and I want a lawyer."

"And I just want to talk," said Beckett as she sat down. "Just you and me in private. No recording devices. By the way, Tom says 'hi' and that he owes you."

With a slight smirk on his face, Frankie narrowed his eyes as he studied Beckett. "He must really like you because my information is never cheap," he said.

Beckett nodded; she wasn't about to waste this favor. "So tell me what happened in the park last week."

"The park – lovely place most of the time," said Frankie, nodding. "I was doing my early morning constitutional like I do every day, just taking in the beauty of nature, watching people – it's a hobby of mine. Anyways, there was this man sitting on a park bench. Which in itself is not odd, but he looks nervous, which is definitely a red flag.

"So I'm thinking he's either a tourist who's never been to our lovely city and believes all the crap about it, or he's waiting for someone and he's not happy about it. So each morning last week, he's there just waiting, no coffee, no paper, so I start coming earlier and earlier to see where he's coming from. Then one day, I see this wallet on the ground near where he's sitting."

"That just accidentally fell out of his pocket?" Beckett asked.

"Yeah, imagine that," said Frankie, nodding, agreeing with her. "Anyways, I look through it to see who it belongs too. But the wallet is empty except for a memory card. So what am I to do? I take the memory card to a friend and they make a copy, you know, so we could identify the person who lost it. And then I put it back in the wallet. When I get back to the park, the guy is going crazy – running around like a madman.

"So I walk up to him and say, 'this what you looking for?' and show him the wallet. He grabs it outta my hands and checks to make sure the memory card is still inside. And he is so grateful, he pulls a roll of hundreds out of his pocket and peels off 5 to give me.

"I mean, who carries money in their pocket but not in their wallet? And with no ID or credit cards? But I don't look a gift horse in the mouth, so I take the money. So I'm thinking corporate espionage, you know, with a wallet with nothing in it but a memory card?"

Frankie grew quiet. "Then the next day, I go back and the man is there, sitting on the bench, like normal, except now he's dead, stabbed in the heart. The wallet is on the ground and there's some credit cards and an ID scattered around it, like a mugging gone wrong. I look in the wallet, but the memory card isn't there."

Beckett nodded, silent as Frankie had talked. "Is there anything else you remember?"

Frankie closed his eyes, remembering the park. "Yeah, several days before the man was killed, there was another man in the park reading a newspaper, but I could tell he was really watching the first man. I'm thinking he may be hitting on my mark, so I watch him. He wasn't there the last day."

"Can you describe this other man to a forensic artist?" Beckett asked.

Frankie nodded. "Yeah, but only if we do it in here," he said, tapping a finger on the table for emphasis. "And then I really want my lawyer – people notice these things."

Beckett nodded. "Fair enough." She paused for a moment. "Frankie, what did you do with the copy of the memory card?"

Frankie shrugged. "Didn't seem to have nothing of value on it, so I gave it to Tom."

Beckett stood. "Thanks. I'll send the artist in…and then the lawyer," she added as Frankie held up a hand to remind her.

Before she reached the door, Frankie's voice stopped her. "Hey, you aren't that detective that broke Tom's heart a couple of years ago, are you? He wouldn't let on, but I could tell it really messed him up pretty badly."

Beckett paused for a moment. "Yeah, I was," she admitted.

# # # # # #

While the artist sat with Frankie, Beckett went back to her office, pulling out her phone to call Tom about the memory card.

The call went to voice mail and she left a brief message for him to call her back as soon as he could.

She smiled wistfully as she touched the flowers. Tom had been a good guy, but just not the right guy, and sometimes she wished she would have told Castle earlier how she felt about him.

She then noticed a small envelope in the flowers and pulled it out, only to find the memory card in it. Another gift from Tom?

Beckett picked up her phone. "Tori, I have something else for you – a memory card. I need it verified and then whatever information is on it. Can you send someone to pick it up? Thanks."

This was also different. In the past, she would have taken the memory card to the lab herself, but now, it seemed more efficient to have someone come pick it up as she sat down to do paperwork.

# # # # # #

Tori was back in less than an hour with a report on what she had found on both the precinct cameras and the memory card.

Beckett had already briefed Espo and Ryan on what Frankie had said, and called them back into her office for the update.

"Golovkin came from the south and walked into the alleyway at 4:59 this morning. I was able to pick him up on the MTA cameras at the south subway stop at 4 am. We're running footage to determine where he got on," Tori reported.

"That's odd," said Ryan. "Why would it take him almost an hour to go 3 blocks?"

"Singh is searching camera footage in the area to see if he stopped someplace first," replied Tori.

She then handed Beckett paper copies of what was on the memory card. "The memory card wasn't encrypted and had 3 files on it. Two of the files are invoices for pest control and the other file is a list of addresses for a Dr. Ivan Yuri from 1999 to present."

Beckett looked at the pieces of paper and then at Tori. Why did that name sound familiar?

Ryan snorted as he read one of the invoices. "$250,000 for pest control? I'm definitely in the wrong line of work." He looked at the other one. "And this one is for $500,000."

"The From and To aren't filled in," said Espo as he took one of the invoices from Ryan. "Sounds like a different kind of pest control if you ask me."

"I ran a search on Dr. Ivan Yuri and several things popped," continued Tori. "He defected from Russia in the mid 1990's, and became a US citizen in shortly after. He published several research papers on weather control. I also found an obituary for him dated 3-31-2010."

"How could he have a current address if he's dead?" said Ryan.

"What's the current address?" Beckett asked.

"Addu City, the Maldives," Tori replied. "Care of Dream Vacation Fishing Tours."

"The Maldives?" Beckett said, frowning.

"Huh," commented Ryan, "you and Castle were supposed to go to the Maldives for your honeymoon."

Beckett nodded. This was getting stranger by the minute. "Yeah, we were."

There was a knock on her door and the forensic artist stepped in. "Captain Beckett, I've finished that sketch you asked for." The woman handed Beckett a piece of paper and then left.

Beckett swore when she saw the drawing and quickly pulled out her phone and dialed Castle's number but it went straight to voice mail. "Castle, we've got some new information. Call me immediately."

"Hey, that's the fake Jenkins," said Ryan, looking at the drawing.

"Yes, it is," said Beckett. Ellison hadn't left a business card with his number on it (she doubted that the CIA had those anyway), so she called the one person in the Company that she knew how to reach.

"Agent Danberg, please," she said and then waited.

"Captain Beckett, it's been a long time," said Danberg when he answered. "Congratulations and how can I help you?"

"Thank you," Beckett replied. "I've got you on speaker phone, and Detectives Esposito and Ryan, and Tech Ellis are also in the room.

"I need to get in touch with one of your agents, Harlan Ellison, immediately. Castle went with him this morning to help with a case."

"Harlan Ellison?" asked Danberg. "Gray hair, late 50's, a little bit of a pot belly, about 6'1"?"

"Yes," nodded Beckett.

"Sorry, Captain, I wish I could help you, but he retired a month ago. He's not with the CIA anymore," Danberg replied.

"But he was here this morning because one of your former agents died in front of the precinct," Beckett said.

"Former agent?" Danberg asked.

"Ilya Golovkin," replied Beckett.

There was a long pause before Danberg answered. "Captain Beckett, Golovkin wasn't a former agent. He was a black ops agent who was working deep cover in a mercenary group. The last time I spoke with him, he said he was meeting a man in New York who had proof of illegal CIA activities."

Beckett frowned, looking out the window of her office into the bullpen. And as she did so, she realized she was staring right at the murder board by Ryan's and Espo's desk.

# # # # # #


	12. Chapter 12 Secrets Revealed

House of Cards

Summary: What if the events that Castle remembered in _Sleeper_ were a lie? What really happened to him during the 2 months he was missing? And what are the consequences now? SPOILER WARNING – This story will go into season 8. At this point, it's totally AU.

AN: T-3 days to go! Yeah! Thanks for the reviews and follows! And have a good weekend.

# # # # # # # # # #

 **Chapter 12 Secrets Revealed**

# # # # # # # # # #

Much to the team's ire, Danberg and two teams of agents arrived at the 12th shortly after the phone call ended.

While Danberg corralled Beckett, Espo, Ryan, and Tori in Beckett's office, one team secured Golovkin's body in the morgue to verify his identity. The other team started removing the items from the murder board and the files from the lab computer.

Espo wore his 'see I told you so' face as he stood in the corner, arms crossed defiantly over his chest. Ryan stood next to him, frowning.

"I can't stress the gravity of this situation," Danberg said as he addressed the group. "And the confidentiality. So to expedite matters, I had you vetted on the way here and can now share certain pieces of information with you."

"Are you taking over the cases?" Beckett asked directly.

Danberg nodded. "Yes, but Detectives Esposito and Ryan are material witnesses and we'll require their cooperation, as well as anyone else involved."

"Agent Danberg, If Ellison wasn't CIA, do you know why he was here?" Beckett asked. "And why he wanted Castle to go with him?"

Danberg thinned his lips as he thought before answering. "We've had some black ops agents go rogue on his watch and that didn't set well with him. He resigned from the Company because he thought he hadn't done his job properly. I can only assume that he's trying to track down those agents and needed Castle's help in identifying them."

"Was Golovkin one of them?" Beckett asked.

Danberg shook his head. "No, he wasn't." He looked at Espo and Ryan. "Did Golovkin speak to either of you before his unfortunate demise?"

At Beckett's nod, Espo responded, "He said that they knew it was Castle, not Yuri, and he warned him not to trust anyone. And then something about a hunt."

Danberg frowned to himself as he digested the information. He looked at Beckett. "Did you tell Castle? And does Castle know a Yuri?"

"Yes, just before Ellison showed up," Beckett replied. "I don't know about Yuri. I've tried to call Castle several times but his phone keeps going to voice mail." She paused. "What about Golovkin? You said he was a black ops agent."

"Yes, on assignment to infiltrate a group of Russian mercenaries," Danberg said. "He's been out of the country for the last year, and he just got back in the country 5 days ago and was tracking down a lead."

"No, that's not right," Beckett said, shaking her head. "Golovkin was here in April. Castle saw him on TV – that's what started him remembering what happened those 2 months that he was missing. And when Golovkin tried to kill him, the fake Jenkins killed him first. Or at least Castle thought he did."

"The fake Jenkins?" asked Danberg. "You'd better start from the beginning."

"I'm sure you know what happened last year – that Castle didn't make it to our wedding and that he was found in a boat a couple of months later with no memory of where he had been," Beckett said.

Danberg nodded. "Yes, we heard. We even looked into it," he admitted.

Beckett paused for a moment. At least she hadn't been alone in her search though she didn't know it at the time.

"We located the property where the boat Castle was found on came from," she continued. "When Esposito and I went there, we met a Henry Jenkins, only he wasn't the real Henry Jenkins. We verified his credentials at the time, but found out later that the DMV had been hacked several weeks before that. When Castle and I went back, we met the real Henry Jenkins and he said no one had been there for months.

"Then a couple of months ago, Castle saw Golovkin in the background of a news story. That started the dreams. He remembered going to Asia to help bring a former classmate of his back – a Bilal Jafari. Castle also remembered someone looking like Chuck Norris being there and that Golovkin was chasing them. We identified the Chuck Norris look-alike as Jeff Powers, but by the time we found him, he was dead, as well as his girlfriend Amber, presumably killed by Golovkin.

"Castle was able to find Jafari, who told him that he had been with Al-Qaeda but wanted to come back to the States. He made a deal to hand over evidence against them, but his handler was killed before they could get him back safely. Jafari said he only trusted Castle to bring him in, so 'they' appropriated Castle on the day of our wedding.

"He also said that if Castle could find him, 'they' could find him also. Jafari called his handlers and left. And right after that, Golovkin tried to kill Castle, but the fake Jenkins killed him instead. But since they faked Golovkin's death, they make have faked the whole thing," Beckett finished.

"I can confirm part of that story," Danberg replied. "We did bring in someone a year ago in May from Asia." He paused, thinking. "Do you have pictures of Powers, Jafari, and the fake Jenkins?"

"Just Powers and Jenkins," Tori said, "but they're on the computer in the lab."

Danberg turned slightly and rapped his knuckle on the glass to get the attention of one of the agents. "Pierce, we need the computer from the lab," he said when a woman opened the door.

"Yes, sir," she said and walked to the lab.

"What about John Doe, the man in the park? How does he fit into this?" Beckett asked as they waited.

Danberg pursed his lips momentarily. "His name was Dorce Whitfall. He was an analyst in the Company working in the Asia division."

"Since Whitfall worked for the Asia division, is it possible that he knew Golovkin, Jafari, and Powers? Knew about what happened?" Beckett asked.

Danberg nodded. "He might have. He worked with black ops occasionally and their paths could have crossed."

"A witness said Whitfall was at the park every morning last week, waiting for someone. Could he have been waiting for Golovkin?" Beckett asked.

Danberg nodded. "That's possible too. Golovkin was delayed several days by weather. Does this witness have a name?"

Beckett nodded in response. "Frank Facchini. He's an informant for Detective Tom Demming of the Robbery division."

Espo and Ryan exchanged looks at that news that they hadn't been privy to.

"We'll need to talk to them also," Danberg said. "I'll send agents to pick them up."

"Facchini said that the fake Jenkins was in the park too, watching Whitfall. However, he wasn't there the morning that Whitfall was killed. And Facchini gave this to Tom," Beckett said, holding up a plastic bag with the memory card in it. "He said he 'found' a wallet that contained only a memory card – he thought it was corporate espionage. He had a friend make a copy and then returned the wallet to Whitfall.

"It has 3 files on it, two pest control invoices and a list of addresses for Dr. Ivan Yuri," she said as she handed Danberg the hard copies.

"That could be the Yuri that Golovkin meant, but according to his obituary, Dr. Ivan Yuri died on 3-31-2010," said Tori.

"So he shouldn't have a current address," added Ryan.

"Dr. Ivan Yuri, I wonder…" Danberg said as he looked at the list of addresses. He thumbed on his phone. "Delia, I need you to run a trace for me – a Dr. Ivan Yuri, and see if you can find any intersection points with a Richard Castle."

Pierce returned with the computer on a rolling cart and Tori quickly pulled up the pictures.

Danberg studied them for a moment and nodded. "I don't know who the fake Jenkins is, but the other man was a black ops agent who disappeared several months ago on assignment. He never reported in and now I know why."

"There was evidence that Golovkin killed Powers. Ellison said that they knew each other," Beckett said.

Danberg nodded. "Yes, they worked together on an elite black ops team for several years. It was disbanded a little over a year ago when the leader disappeared, presumably killed on a mission." He paused for a moment. "You knew him as Anderson Cross."

"Anderson Cross?" Beckett asked softly. Castle and he hadn't parted on good terms and now they never would.

"As in the Ted Rollins murder?" asked Ryan.

Danberg nodded in affirmation.

"Hunt," Beckett said suddenly. "The first time that Castle met him, he said his name was Jackson Hunt. Could Golovkin have been referring to him?"

Danberg was about to say something when an "ahem" caught their attention.

Holding a lovely plant, Martha stood in the doorway. "I'm sorry, Katherine," said she. "I know you told Richard no flowers, but I thought a plant would do nicely." She motioned towards the door. "It was open and I couldn't help overhearing what you said. I'm Martha—" she said, walking into the room and extending her hand to Danberg.

"—Rodgers," he finished. "My wife and I saw your play last week and thoroughly enjoyed it."

"Thank you, dear," said Martha as she put the plant down on the desk.

"Martha," breathed Beckett as she fumbled out an apology. "I'm sorry, you shouldn't have found out that way."

"Nonsense, dear. And I said goodbye to Cross or Hunt or whatever his real name was the last time I saw him," Martha tut-tutted. "Besides, it's not true that he's dead – or it wasn't true last September."

Danberg looked confused. "How do you know that? And how do you know Cross?"

"Oh, he's Richard's father," stated Martha oversharing once again. She looked at Beckett.

"I'm sorry, Katherine, I should have told you but I didn't want to get your hopes up in case it wasn't true," Martha said, grabbing Beckett's hands in hers. "About a week and a half before Richard was found, someone broke into my acting studio."

"Martha, you should have told me," Beckett exclaimed. "I could have done something."

Martha shook her head. "No, no, dear, you were exhausted, working so hard to find Richard. That very nice Detective Demming helped me. And nothing was missing, but whoever had broken in left an Operation game and a Valentine card in my office. When I saw those things, I knew it was Cross."

"That's creepy," said Ryan.

"But how do you know it was him?" asked Danberg.

Martha looked at him. "Because only Cross would have known about those things. The last time we saw him, he had been shot. Right before Richard dug the bullet out, he said he had an Operation game as a child. And Cross asked him not make his nose light up. And I sang 'My Funny Valentine' the night I met Cross. He left me those items to let me know that Richard was with him."

"Martha, why didn't you tell me?" asked Beckett, the hurt apparent on her face.

"I'm sorry, Katherine," replied Martha, putting a hand to the younger woman's face. "I thought about it several times but couldn't help thinking that if Richard was with his father, he was in danger and that it might not turn out well. I couldn't give you hope only to see you lose it again. And if anything, Cross is a liar – I didn't know if I could trust him especially after he used you and Richard to catch that spy."

Beckett frowned, her brow furrowing. Before she could say anything, her phone chirped and she pulled it out expectantly, only to see that it was Lanie calling.

"Hey, girl, what's going on up there? We've got suits running around down here," said the ME.

"They're here too," said Beckett. "I've got you on speaker phone. What did you find out?"

"Well, before I was so rudely interrupted, I was running a tox panel on your vic Golovkin. He died from an overdose of paracetamol that he ingested in the last 48 hours," Lanie said.

"Paracetamol?" asked Espo.

"Commonly known as Tylenol," replied Lanie. "It severely damages the liver when taken in the amount that Golovkin had in his system. He would have had to seek immediate medical attention to survive and would have needed a liver transplant."

"Oh, dear," said Martha, putting a hand to her mouth when she heard that. "I think I know what Richard did while he was missing." She looked at Beckett. "There was a sheet of post-op instructions for living liver donors in the Operation game. I think he donated part of his liver to someone."

# # # # # # # # # #

Ellison's frown changed into a sly smile as he listened to the conversation through the bug he had planted in Beckett's office.

"So that's how you did it, you slippery bastard. I knew you had to be connected to someone," he said as he toed the unconscious writer in the side with his foot.

Ellison spoke into the headset. "You heard? Good. No, that ship has sunk, so burn the building and salt the earth."

He paused for a moment. "If Hunt's still alive, we've got bigger problems than the CIA, but I've got an idea how to draw him out. Now what about Demming? Is there dirt on him or do we have to manufacture something like we did for Golovkin?"

"Oh, no, that won't be necessary," came the reply. "We're at his place now and you will _**not**_ believe what we found. Demming left us everything we need. I'm sending you a picture now."

Ellison waited for a moment and then his smile spread. "That's perfect. We'll go with that. Call me when you have everything set up. And be quick – you've got goons headed your way."

He hung up the call and then smirked at Castle. "Guess everyone isn't a fan."

# # # # # # # # # #


	13. Chapter 13 Passion, Greed, Politics

House of Cards

Summary: What if the events that Castle remembered in _Sleeper_ were a lie? What really happened to him during the 2 months he was missing? And what are the consequences now? SPOILER WARNING – This story will go into season 8, and at this point, it's definitely, totally AU.

AN: All I can say is "Spiders – yuuch." The only thing that would have been grosser was if they had used those big tree roaches. No, they won't kill you, but they are just nasty. Thanks again for the follows, favs, and reviews. They really mean a lot. Rated high T for language.

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 **Chapter 13 Passion, Greed, Politics**

" _Murder usually makes a great deal of sense. Passion, greed, politics."_

 _Richard Castle, Flowers for Her Grave_

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Castle groaned and tried to reach a hand up to his throbbing head, but found that he couldn't. The effort drained him enough that he quit trying as he coughed against the dry fuzz in his mouth.

He had one hell of a hangover but didn't remember drinking that much last night when they celebrated Beckett's promotion to Captain.

They definitely weren't teetotalers and had a glass of wine with dinner a few nights a week if they made it home at a decent time. On vacation, they might imbibe a little more, but never to the point that their thinking was impaired. Beckett had lived with the consequences of that too often when her father turned to the bottle after her mother died.

Castle groaned again as he tried to open his eyes that seemed to be glued shut – definitely blood shot, he thought feeling the grit. The last time he felt like this was after Ryan's impromptu bachelor party in Atlantic City, not toilet-hugging sick, but definitely head pounding.

When he finally managed to pry his eyes open, he looked around the room, squinting against the bright lights that made his head hurt worse. How had he gotten here and where exactly was here? And why did it smell like a distillery?

He squeezed his eyes closed as he tried to remember. They had been at a crime scene – Golovkin had died and then Harlan Ellison had shown up. Yes, he had gone with Harlan to help identify some people.

But what had happened after that? Had they been in a wreck?

He opened his eyes again as he heard a groan coming from his left and swiveled his head in that direction to see a man lying on a gurney.

"Harlan," Castle called, trying to get the man's attention. "Harlan!"

The man on the gurney groaned again and rolled his head towards the sound.

"Demming?" Castle asked, lifting his head up slightly to get a better look. That's definitely not whom he expected to see.

"Demming!" Castle hissed again.

The detective groaned and opened matching bleary eyes. "Cassle?" he slurred.

"Demming, are you drunk?" Castle asked.

The detective had to think for a moment before answering tentatively, "Yeah, thin' so. Some party, huh?"

Castle was about to say something else when the door opened and a slim woman with long red hair walked in, her face covered by a surgical mask.

Castle felt his pulse speed up as the fight-or-flight instinct kicked in. Neiman was dead – Beckett had done that to survive the harrowing ordeal the insane couple had put her through. But how could Neiman be here? Or was he hallucinating?

The woman walked over to where Demming lay and raised the head of the bed slightly. "Tom Demming," she said in a loud voice, tapping him on the face. "Demming! Wake up!"

Castle relaxed slightly; based on the voice, the woman definitely wasn't Neiman.

As Demming stirred, she unscrewed the top of a bottle on the table next to him and opened his mouth slightly. "Here you go – now be a good boy and drink up."

Demming sputtered as she slowly poured the liquor in his mouth, part of it running down his chin and the side of his face.

"Almost done," the woman said as she stroked his throat so he would swallow.

Finally satisfied with the amount consumed, the woman put the bottle back down.

As she was taking a sample of his blood, the door opened and Ellison walked in.

"Ellison, what the hell?" demanded Castle. "What's going on? Where am I?"

The man regarded him for a moment. "I'm not sure which story I believe more – that you brought in a former Al-Qaeda agent and helped saved the world, or that you just saved 1 person who apparently is your father."

Castle frowned, shaking his head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Ellison shook his head in response. "And that's the irony of the situation. You probably don't. They saw to that." He looked over at the woman. "How's he doing?"

"We're almost there. He's at .15%," she said.

"Good," Ellison replied and then looked back at Castle. "And as for you…" he said, grabbing the front of Castle's shirt and ripping it open, the buttons clattering to the floor.

"Hey, this is one of my favorite shirts," Castle said indignantly.

Ellison was silent as he examined the scar on Castle's side with cold fingers. "So what do you think?" he asked the woman who had walked over.

"It's possible," she said, also fingering the scar. "Some of the doctors in Canada are using a smaller incision."

"They put something inside me?" asked Castle, alarmed.

Ellison shook his head. "No, more like they took something out of you – part of your liver."

"But why would they do that?" Castle demanded in disbelief.

"Because your father had the gall to not die when I had him poisoned," Ellison replied simply.

Castle stared at the man, clearly confused. "But why would you do that? Aren't you on the same team?"

"Politics," Ellison said, shrugging. "Let's just say we had a disagreement about policy. As for you, you're in the way once again."

The woman looked at Ellison. "Are you sure it wouldn't be simpler just to sell him to the Russians? I believe the last bid was $5 million, US dollars."

Ellison regarded Castle coldly and shook his head. "No, he'd probably just beat them at poker and charm them with stories. I want this problem put to rest once and for all."

"Hey, I'm right here – I can hear you," Castle exclaimed.

Ellison looked at the woman. "Call me when you're ready. I don't want any more screw-ups, so I'll handle this myself."

He then walked out of the room as Castle looked around desperately for the means to save himself and Demming.

# # # # # # # # # #

Beckett could only stare at Martha. "But why would he do that and then stay away for several months?" she asked finally.

Martha fixed her with a look. "Katherine, dear, this is Richard. I can count the times that he really thought something through before doing it on one hand."

Beckett shook her head. "But when he was found, the doctors ran tests. They would have found something then, wouldn't they?"

Martha took a breath. "From what I've read, it takes about 2 months for a liver to grow back, which is the amount of time Richard was missing. And the test results were skewed because he was severely dehydrated, so they may not have found anything."

Beckett looked at Martha in surprise as Danberg's phone chirped.

He quickly answered. "Delia, I've got you on speaker. What did you find?"

"Yes, there was a definite connection between Dr. Ivan Yuri and Richard Castle. They met while Castle was shadowing the CIA. And in one of Dr. Yuri's research papers, he credits Castle with 'putting him on the right track'."

"On the right track of what?" Beckett asked.

There was a pause. "That was in Dr. Yuri's paper on ionospheric enhancement technology. Ah, sir, perhaps, you want to take me off of speaker?"

Danberg did as she suggested and listened for a few minutes without interrupting. "Really? The Maldives?" he said finally. "Yes, keep following the trail."

He then looked at the group who was watching him impatiently. "We've uncovered evidence that Ellison has a very lucrative side business selling disruptive technology devices on the black market."

"Disruptive technology?" asked Espo.

Danberg nodded. "Devices used to disrupt communications – satellites, cell phones, police scanners, things like that."

"What has that got to do with the Maldives and Castle?" Beckett asked warily.

"Those devices are manufactured in a factory in southern India and one of the consultants to the factory lives in the Maldives," Danberg replied. "He has a different identity, but it's definitely Dr. Ivan Yuri."

He took a breath. "Delia spoke to Dr. Yuri who remembers Castle and was wondering if he was getting the royalty checks from the factory."

Beckett shook her head. "Castle's never said anything about that and we were supposed to go to the Maldives on our honeymoon."

She began putting the pieces of the puzzle together. "Someone's hiding something and didn't want them to meet."

Danberg nodded. "Probably Ellison."

"What has Castle got to do with that?" asked Ryan.

"Because the device being marketed is based on one of Castle's idea. He used it in his book _Tropical Storm_ ," Danberg replied.

"But Castle never published that book," Beckett said, looking at Danberg. "He said it wasn't any good."

"The story was a little far-fetched if you ask me, but the science was solid," Danberg replied.

Beckett paused for a moment. "You read _Tropical Storm_?"

Danberg nodded. "Yes. We monitor all of Castle's writings. He's been very careful so far, but you never know what seemingly nothing will slip out that will cause problems."

Beckett frowned again. Castle never mentioned that either, but he may not know they were doing that.

"What about Ellison?" Beckett asked. "Castle went with him because he didn't know Ellison wasn't with the CIA any more. Can you track him? Find out where they've gone?"

"Apparently he cleaned out his house several days ago and closed his bank accounts. We've got facial recognition running and we're monitoring using other methods, but we haven't had any hits yet," Danberg said.

"What about these?" Beckett asked, picking up the two pest control orders and handing them to Danberg. "They were on the memory card. They aren't pest control orders, are they?"

Danberg pursed his lips. "No, they're not," he acknowledged.

He was about to knock on the glass again when an agent carrying an evidence box walked up to the door.

"Sir, I think you should see this," he said, putting the box on Beckett's desk. "Demming wasn't home and his place had been trashed. We found these scattered on the floor."

Danberg nodded and pulled on a pair of disposable gloves before looking into the box. It contained pictures of Castle and a woman, and one of Castle's books.

"Do you know her?" Danberg asked Beckett as he picked up a picture and showed it to her.

Beckett nodded. "That's Gina, Castle's ex-wife."

"And that's the Hamptons," Martha said as she looked at the picture. "These were taken a couple of years ago when they were there during the summer."

"But why would Demming have pictures of Castle and his ex?" Ryan asked as the team looked at the pictures.

Danberg picked up the book and opened the cover. "Captain Beckett, this belongs to you," he said, looking at her. "Do you and Demming know each other?"

Beckett nodded slightly. "We dated several years ago. I must have left it at his place."

"It was a bad break-up, I take it?" Danberg asked as he leafed through the book.

"No, I didn't think so," said Beckett, shaking her head.

"Really? You didn't break up with him for Castle? Then why would he write this?" Danberg asked as he flipped the book around to show her what Demming had scrawled on the pages.

Beckett almost dropped the book as she grabbed it from Danberg and stared at the pages covered with 'Kate, I love you,' 'Castle, you asshole,' 'Cheating scumbag,' 'You don't deserve her,' 'You'll suffer for what you've done,' and 'I'll kill you.'

She flipped the book over to the back cover and gasped when she saw that Demming had drawn devil horns and a Van Dyke on Castle's face.

"Definitely not a fan," remarked Danberg.

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	14. Chapter 14 Crazy Ex-boyfriend Scenario

House of Cards

Summary: What if the events that Castle remembered in _Sleeper_ were a lie? What really happened to him during the 2 months he was missing? And what are the consequences now? SPOILER WARNING – This story will go into season 8, and at this point, it's definitely, totally AU.

AN: Thanks again for the follows, favs, and reviews. They really mean a lot. Rated high T for language. And yeah, Monday is in 2 days!

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 **Chapter 14 The Crazy Ex-boyfriend Scenario**

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Castle twisted in the restraints, hoping to find a weak link so he could break free, before stopping, catching his breath, and starting again.

Beckett had told him how she had gotten loose when Nieman had her, but he had no such luck. The restraints were different and there was no screw that he could saw them against.

He let out a frustrated groan and collapsed back on the table when he heard the door open.

The red-haired woman walked in quietly, this time dressed in black fatigues and carrying a roll of duct tape. A gun was holstered at her left hip.

"Time to go, lover boy," she said as she stripped off a piece of tape.

"I take it Ellison didn't sanction this," Castle said as he turned his face away from her.

She smiled slightly as she simply turned his face back and put the duct tape over his mouth. "Let's just say that the offer is too good to pass up. I'm going to undo one of the restraints and then I want you to undo the other. And behave; otherwise, your friend gets it."

She undid one of the restraints and then took a step back, slipping the gun out of its holster and aiming it at Demming.

Castle undid the other restraint and then sat up, deciding whether or not to feint dizziness, and then chose not to.

"Hands behind your back," the woman commanded as she slipped the gun into her holster.

Castle stood and turned around, waiting for the right moment as the woman tore off another piece of duct tape and started to put it around his wrists. He spun suddenly, causing her to lose her balance and automatically reach for the gurney to catch herself.

Having the element of surprise, Castle knocked her to the ground and reached down to pull the gun out of the holster. He aimed it at her as he ripped the duct tape from his mouth.

"Your turn now," he said, motioning for her to get on the table. He quickly secured her and picked up his cell phone from the table and thumbed it on. He swore at the no bars and then looked over at Demming. They had to get out of here before someone else came.

"Tom! Wake up! Demming!" Castle yelled, tapping the man's face lightly.

Demming started awake, letting out a loud burp. "Cassle – what the?" he slurred as he looked around. "Where 're we?"

"No place we want to be," Castle replied. He stuffed the cell phone and gun in his pocket and undid the restraints holding Demming. "Can you walk?"

"Sure," Demming boasted and then proceed to collapse on the floor as his knees buckled. "Uh, maybe not. I'll just stay here – sleep it off."

"Not an option," said Castle, as he reached down and hooked an arm around Demming, grabbing him by the back of his belt. "Hold on," he said as he adjusted his grip and pulled Demming upright. "But do me a favor."

"Wha' that?" asked Demming, his face close to Castle.

"Breathe the other way," said Castle as he half-carried Demming out of the room.

The woman waited a few moments after the door closed and then said, "They're on their way to you. Now, can you send someone in to free me?"

# # # # # # # # # #

"So Demming's a stalker?" Ryan asked.

"More like a crazy ex-boyfriend that won't go away," replied Espo.

"No, there's got to be something else," said Beckett, shaking her head, frowning.

"I analyzed the handwriting in the book," said Tori as she pulled up two images on the computer monitor. "The image on the left side is a sample of Demming's handwriting; the image on the right side were taken from the book. Demming wrote most of the phrases in the book, except for these two," she said, pointing to 'You'll suffer for what you've done' and 'I'll kill you'. "In addition, these two were written with a different type of pen."

"So they were added by someone else," Danberg said.

Tori nodded. "Based on an ink age comparison, they were written recently, probably this morning. The rest of the phrases were written about 4 years ago." She paused for a moment, glancing at Beckett. "I've also been able to determine that the photos _**do**_ belong to Detective Demming. He had them stored in an online account. They were taken Memorial Day weekend 2011."

"That can't be a coincidence," said Ryan, looking at Beckett.

Beckett shook her head slightly as she pushed a piece of hair behind her ear. That weekend had not gone at all as she had planned.

"But why would Detective Demming take those pictures of Richard and Gina?" Martha asked.

"Because I broke up with him that Friday and was going to tell Castle how I felt, but then Gina showed up before I could," Beckett admitted.

"And she and Richard were going to spend that summer at the Hamptons," Martha said sadly. "Oh, Katherine dear, did you ever tell Richard?"

Beckett ducked her head, swallowing. She was about to respond when her phone rang.

She glanced at the number and then quickly answered, hitting the speaker button, "Castle! Where are you? You're breaking up!"

"Kate, we're outside a warehouse. I can hear traffic so we must be near a highway. And I can hear water and boats," Castle replied.

"Is Ellison with you?" Danberg asked.

"Agent Danberg, is that you?" Castle asked, slightly perplexed. "No, he's not, but Tom is and he's drunk as a skunk."

"We're triangulating your position now," said Tori.

"Castle, listen," Beckett started to say but was cut off as Castle yelled, "Tom – no – stop. Put the gun down – don't shoot!"

A loud bang ripped the air and then the phone went dead as the call was lost.

"That man just shot Richard!" Martha exclaimed, her eyes wide.

Beckett shook her head as she frowned and grabbed Martha's hand. "No, no, that's what they want us to think. That's why all of this," she said pointing at the book and pictures. "They're framing Demming. He's a material witness and they think they can discredit him."

"Really?" scoffed Espo. "Because it sure looks like he's guilty."

"I've got the location," said Tori. "A warehouse in the Chelsea district."

Beckett picked up her phone and quickly dialed a number. "We have an active shooter at a warehouse," she said tersely. "All units in the Chelsea area respond."

# # # # # # # # # #

As Castle was talking with Beckett, he turned in a slow circle, trying to get better reception, when he spotted Tom pulling his back-up piece out of his ankle holster out of the corner of his eye. He shouted at him to get his attention and then ducked as the gun swung his way.

The shot went wild, striking the building several feet from where Castle stood.

"Demming, what the hell?" he said as he turned to face the detective slumped against the wall.

"Them," slurred Demming as he pointed the shaking gun towards Ellison and the woman standing at the end of walkway between 2 buildings. His arm dropped down and the gun clattered to the ground.

Ellison held a device the size of a game controller in his hands, while the woman aimed a gun at Castle.

"So I didn't put you down," said Castle.

She shook her head. "Not a chance, honey. We just needed you outside and Demming's prints on his gun."

Castle took her gun out of his pocket and dangled it from his hand as he held his hands up. "And this probably has blanks in it."

"Of course," said Ellison. "It would mess everything up if you were shot by the wrong gun."

Castle nodded as he dropped the gun. "Just tell me why, Ellison."

Ellison lifted the device he held in his hands. "Because of this little piece of magic, available worldwide for a mere $10,000 a pop. A little pricey, but it's smaller than any other MDT device on the market and there's a high demand for it."

Castle shook his head. "MDT? I don't understand."

"Mobile disruption technology – or for the simple minded, a jamming device – a very portable jamming device. You invented it, by accident of course, in your book _Tropical Storm_. Dr. Yuri improved it, shrunk it, found a way to manufacturer it cheaply," Ellison explained. "I have a way to market them."

"Dr. Yuri – Ivan?" Castle asked.

"One in the same. He lives in the Maldives and it wouldn't be good for business if you two met," said Ellison.

"So you tried to kidnap me last year? You ruined our wedding?" Castle asked.

"Collateral damage," Ellison replied. "For the greater good, or rather, for my greater good."

"What about Demming?" Castle asked.

"He's a loose end that I can't afford to have around. So he'll kill you and then himself," Ellison replied. "And he's already provided all the evidence we need with photos of you and … your ex-wife Gina, I believe … not to mention he trashed a copy of _Naked Heat_."

Castle shook his head. "But why would he do that?"

"Because the love of his life broke up with him to be with you, you dimwit," scoffed the woman.

Castle shook his head again. "Beckett?" he asked. "No, she didn't. She did? She never told me. No wonder she was so mad."

"Not that it matters now. Let's get this over with," Ellison nodded at the woman as a black SUV pulled up to the front of the walkway. "Our ride is here."

She walked over to where Demming sat slumped against the wall and batted his hand away as he tried to reach for the gun and toppled over as a result.

"So, Mr. Castle, this is where we say goodbye," she said as she raised the gun towards him.

Castle jerked slightly as two shots sounded, one knocking the gun out of the woman's hand and one hitting her squarely in the chest.

She fell lifelessly to the ground, the gun skittering on the ground several feet from her.

At the same time, the SUV exploded, sending debris into the air.

Hunched over, Castle stared at the flaming car and then a loud whistle caught his attention. He straightened up and spotted someone wearing a baseball hat on the roof of the warehouse, a sniper rifle held up. The person waved and then disappeared.

"What the—?" Castle said as a laugh caught his attention.

"Well, Castle, looks like your father deserted you again in your time of need," said Ellison. "But then again, that's the type of man he is."

Castle scowled at him. "You don't know him."

"And you do?" asked Ellison as he took another step forward. "He left your mother pregnant and alone." Ellison took another step forward. "He used you and Beckett to catch Gemini because he couldn't do it." He took another step forward. "You gave him part of your liver and he took your memories. I don't call that fatherly love."

Castle's face turned redder at Ellison's words and his hands clenched into fists.

"So what's it going to be, Rick – think you can take me?" Ellison said as he glanced at the gun a few feet away from him. "You never could before."

Ellison could hear sirens in the distance and knew that his time was running out.

"No, I never could. But I hope you're wearing body armor," Castle said as he pulled out Demming's primary gun that had been stuck in the back of his waistband and shot Ellison squarely in the chest.

The man staggered backward and collapsed on the ground, wheezing at the pressure on his chest.

"Looks like you are," said Castle as he walked over to Ellison and knee-capped him.

Ellison grabbed his bleeding leg out of reflex and hissed as Castle knelt next to him, pulling off his belt and wrapping it tightly around his thigh. He then stripped Ellison of his belt and secured the man's hands behind his back.

"You know, I'd rather you bleed to death. That would save a lot of time and money," said Castle, "but apparently my father believes in justice – even Company justice – since he didn't shoot you in the head and that's good enough for me."

Castle stood and walked back to where Tom lay. "Hey, Demming, you still with us?"

"Yeah," the detective slurred. "Cassle – do me a favor – when I puke and then pass out, roll me over … so that I don't choke – kay?"

"Sure," said Castle. "Just hang on; we'll have you feeling better in no time."

He put the gun down and put up his hands as several SWAT officers ran into view, guns drawn.

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	15. Chapter 15 All Tied Up Neat With a Bow

House of Cards

Summary: What if the events that Castle remembered in _Sleeper_ were a lie? What really happened to him during the 2 months he was missing? And what are the consequences now? SPOILER WARNING – This story will go into season 8, and at this point, it's definitely, totally AU.

AN: And once again, we come to the end of the story. And it's Monday again. Yeah! Thanks again for the follows, favs, and reviews. They really mean a lot. And yes, I've compressed the time it takes for test results for the sake of the story.

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 **Chapter 15 All Tied Up Neat with a Bow**

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Castle sat on the back bumper of the ambulance, sipping a coffee that one of the uniforms just happened to have with them, and casually watched the organized chaos taking place in the warehouse area.

The CIA and FBI arrived almost immediately after the police, each agency jockeying for position in the investigation. Various CSU's combed the area for evidence, careful not to contaminate any area that a particular agency had already claimed.

A moan from the interior of the ambulance caught his attention and Castle stood, stretching his knee for a moment, before climbing into the interior and sitting down next to Demming, who lay on a gurney with an IV in his arm and an ice pack on his forehead.

"Feeling better, Demming?" Castle asked.

"Just shoot me now," Demming replied with a groan, removing the ice pack from his head. "Hey, Castle, thanks. You're not so bad after all."

"You're just saying that because I saved your life," Castle said and then paused. "Tom, Ellison said you had pictures of me and Gina…?"

Demming took a breath. "Yeah, guess I went kinda stalkerish after Kate broke up with me. I was out front when you and …Gina… left that Friday. So I followed you and took pictures of you that weekend. I wanted to show Kate the type of man you were."

Castle shook his head. "She never said anything."

Demming frowned slightly. "That's because I never sent the pictures. I was about to the next weekend. But then I took a good look at the pictures, and you know what I saw? My father. He had the same expression on his face, like he had seen what he wanted and knew he could never have it, but he was going to make the best out of what life had given him."

"Nice to know that I can be read so easily," Castle quipped almost sarcastically. "Remind me not to play poker with you."

Demming started to shake his head and thought better of it. "Don't get me wrong. My parents had a good life and they loved each other. But after my father died, my mother found some letters that he had written to a woman named Aaminah before they met. In the letters, he told her she was the love of his life."

Demming paused to take a sip of water from a bottle. "I tracked down some of his old military buddies and they told me about her. They had met when he was stationed in the Middle East and fell in love, but her parents found out and moved away. He never saw her again. He thought he'd never find happiness again."

Castle nodded in response. "Yeah, I know the feeling," he said under his breath.

An ahem caught their attention and an EMT stepped into the back of the ambulance. "We're ready to take Mr. Demming to the hospital. They probably want to check you out also, Mr. Castle, so you can ride with us if you want to."

Castle smiled as he heard Beckett calling his name in the distance. "No, I'm good. My ride is here."

He stood and stepped off the back of the ambulance.

"Hey, Castle, thanks again," said Demming.

"No problem, but next time, let's do it without the crazy people," Castle said.

He turned as the ambulance drove off, scanning the area until he saw Beckett looking around for him.

"Beckett!" he yelled, raising a hand in a wave.

She turned, looking for his voice, and then rushed towards him when she spotted him, barely avoiding the areas marked with small flags.

They met in the middle, Castle lifting her and spinning her around in a big hug as they kissed.

Still holding on to each other, they pulled back slightly and said at the same time, "I'm sorry."

"I should have known something up was because he was being too helpful," said Castle. "Ellison isn't helpful."

"I should have checked his credentials before you left," said Beckett. She stepped back, looking him over. "Are you okay?"

"Demming got the worst of it," he answered. "They just took him to the hospital."

"We were talking and then there was a shot and the phone cut off," Beckett said.

Castle nodded. "Ellison planned that – in fact, he planned all of it – he kidnapped me on the way to the wedding so we wouldn't go to the Maldives—"

Beckett nodded. "Because Dr. Ivan Yuri is there and he couldn't take the chance that you'd meet. If you did, you'd find out about his side business and that they were using your idea."

"My idea?" Castle asked, confused.

"From _Tropical Storm_ – your machine that controls the weather," said Beckett. "Only they made it so that it disrupted mobile communications instead. Ellison had a factory in southern India where the devices were being built."

Castle nodded. "So that's what he was holding." He glanced over to where a CIA tech was picking the device up off the ground and placing it into a box. "That must have been a lucrative business. He said they sell for $10K each."

"And when Danberg talked Dr. Yuri, he said that you were supposed to be getting part of the money," Beckett added.

"Really?" asked Castle. He shook his head. "All of this because of money." He looked at Beckett. "And, Kate, he tried to kill my father – he had him poisoned."

"Then that's who it was. Martha said that your father left her a message that you were with him—"

"And she didn't tell me?!" Castle exclaimed. "We are going to have to have a talk."

Beckett shook her head. "She wasn't sure. But she also said that she thinks you donated part of your liver to him. That's why you were missing so long."

Castle frowned. "So I wasn't saving the world?"

"Probably not," said Danberg as he walked up. "Mr. Castle, nice to meet you again."

"Agent Danberg," Castle nodded.

"I'll need you to come with me to give a statement," he said, holding out 2 black sacks. "And there are some other matters to attend to also."

Castle looked at him as he took the sack. "I've already been kidnapped once today. Are you sure you're still with the Company?"

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The secret compound hadn't changed any since the last time they were there and Danberg ushered them into a small room.

After Castle gave his statement, he looked at Danberg.

"So what's going to happen to Ellison?" he asked. "Hopefully he'll never see the light of day again."

"He's in custody and we have taken control of all of his accounts," Danberg commented. "We also shut down the factory in India. Dr. Yuri was cleared and he had no idea what Ellison was doing."

Castle nodded and then looked at Danberg. "The man who saved us – was that my father?"

Danberg shook his head. "No, we don't think so, but he may have been here. There were a few casings left on the roof and we've run a DNA analysis. The results came back as this man," he said as he handed Castle a picture of a man.

"That's the fake Jenkins," Castle and Beckett said at the same time.

"All I can tell you is that he's an agent for the Canadian Security Intelligence Company," said Danberg.

"Then you don't know anything about my father?" Castle asked hopefully.

"No," said Danberg, shaking his head.

"But you couldn't tell me if you did anyway, could you?" Castle said rhetorically, slightly deflated at the news.

"No, but this should cheer you up," said Danberg as he slid a check in front of Castle. "That's your share of the profits from Ellison's black market business."

"Wow, but isn't that illegal?" Beckett asked as she saw the amount.

Castle frowned as he looked at the piece of paper and then at Danberg. "So what's the catch?"

"Let's just say we're hoping for a generous donation to the Company family emergency fund," said Danberg.

"Done," said Castle as he picked up a pen and endorsed the check.

"And there's one other thing," said Danberg. "While we were going through your file, we noticed that you didn't sign the release during your exit interview and the name of the agent who debriefed you isn't on file. Do you remember who it was?"

Castle sat back in the chair, slightly uncomfortable. "Yes, that would have been Sophia Turner," he said finally, keeping his voice level. "She handled it – the exit interview – personally."

"I see," nodded Danberg in response and then thought for a moment. "That shouldn't be a problem. Your user ID and password were inactivated at the time, but we'll need you to sign the form."

"So I've been a CIA agent all this time?" Castle asked, perking up slightly, a smile on his face.

"Contractor," replied Danberg. "If you'll wait here for a moment, Simon will bring in the form and we'll escort you back to the precinct."

He walked out of the room.

"So just how personal was this exit interview?" Beckett asked after a moment.

Castle pursed his lips together for a moment before speaking. "Kate, I'm not going to deny that Sophia and I had a relationship, but that's all in the past."

He shrugged and frowned. "And granted, in hindsight, it probably wasn't the best idea to get involved with a sleeper KGB agent. In fact, she was probably only using me to get to my father."

Beckett nodded and then smiled. "Okay. But from now on, Rick, the only person who gets to debrief you is me."

"Always," said Castle as they leaned forward to kiss.

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The End


End file.
